

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


§]^p. (i0|it]ng|t !f u* 

Shelf. M,.^tS^ 


UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 





Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
in 2011 witii funding from 
Tine Library of Congress 



littp://www.arcliive.org/details/ramblesinliistoriOOhami 



RAMBLES 
IN HISTORIC LANDS 



TRAVELS IN BELGIUM, GERMANY, SWITZERLAND 
ITALY, FRANCE AND ENGLAND 



PETER J. HAMILTON, A.M. 

LATE FELLOW OF PRINCETON COLLEGE 



ILLUSTRATED 




G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

NEW YORK LONDON 

27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 






%\t ^niclurbockct Ifress 
1893 



Irn UBJLARY 
gov CONORBtf 



Copyright, 1893 

By peter J. HAMILTON 

Entered at Stationers' Hall^ London 

By Peter J. Hamilton 



-0^ 



el 



1^ 



Electrotyped, Printed and Bound by 

Ube Iknicftcrbocfeer ipress, mew lorft 
G. P. Putnam's Sons 



AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
TO 

RACHEL BURGETT HAMILTON 

MY WIFE 

THE SHARER OF THESE RAMBLES 

MY INCENTIVE TO AUTHORSHIP 

AND MY FRIENDLY CRITIC 



PREFACE. 

\1 7HEN a new book of European travel is announced 
' " the three questions naturally arise, Who is the 
author ? What is his point of view ? What new has he 
to tell ? 

In reply it must be confessed that he is no. distinguished 
man. He is a resident of. Mobile, and a graduate of 
Princeton College in 1879, where he took the Mental Sci- 
ence fellowship and went to Leipzig University for courses 
in philosophy and law. In the vacations he travelled a 
good deal, ranging from Stirling to Pompeii, from Berlin 
to Paris. Not yet recovered from the systematic train- 
ing of his alma mater ^ he observed carefully while abroad 
and kept full journals, being interested more especially 
in everything connected with history. On this occasion 
he lived abroad over a year. 

In 1891 came the pleasure trip of four months recorded 
in this volume, in which the route was somewhat varied 
but the historical point of view maintained. This book 
follows the footprints of the second visit but includes 
much of importance gleaned on the first. It has been 
almost two years on the anvil. 

What new has he to tell ? Well, it will not do to pre- 
tend in these Columbian times that an American dis- 



VI PREFACE. 

covered Europe. But there are several things which if 
not absolutely new can be told in a new manner. 

For instance, German University life is told as experi- 
enced by one studying in the largest German University, 
just as it appeared to him fresh from one of the greatest 
of American colleges. He loves art and describes gal- 
leries as they struck an amateur. He gives a careful if 
short sketch of the art development of Europe, derived 
from various sources, because others may like himself 
have been unable to find any that is at once measurably 
accurate, brief and interesting. Something like a philo- 
sophic study of the Roman Empire, ancient and modern, 
is made in connection with visits to historic centres, be- 
cause many yet think of the Empire as ceasing a.d. 476 
and have not mastered Bryce's views of the middle ages. 
Historic sites are described from sheer love of archaeology 
and desire to realize the surroundings of epoch-making 
races and individuals. He relates what was seen of 
nature in Switzerland when he walked its passes, before 
railroads came to whirl one along too fast for good views 
and deaden enjoyment by making it too easy. Venice, 
Paris and London have certainly been much written 
about, but they appear different to different tempera- 
ments, and, possibly, still admit of systematic, if brief, 
treatment. Somewhat so, too, of great men. The great- 
est men of modern times are Luther, Shakspere, Goethe, 
and Napoleon, and everything of interest found relating 
to them has been described, because in one way or 
another they have made modern history. 

Americans are getting to be as great travellers as their 
English cousins, and it may be that to some people of 
each nationality this volume, without belonging to the 
useful but prosaic class of guide books, may relate ex- 



PREFACE. VU 

periences by land and sea of some interest and value and 
be a useful complement to guide books. It at least em- 
bodies general views and descriptions which the detailed 
guide book does not give and which the author has 
realized himself only from the air, surroundings and life 
of the places themselves. 

It has not been thought necessary to cite authorities, 
for while the authors to whom the book is indebted are 
many they are mainly such as are familiar to most peo- 
ple of general information. 

The illustrations, it may be added, are from photo- 
graphs secured on the spot and are meant to reproduce 
places of interest not commonly pictured. 

Such are some of the aims of this book of travel. How 
far it has succeeded its author cannot judge, for this he 
must leave to the candid critic and to the reading public. 

There are of course several kinds of moneys men- 
tioned, and it may not be amiss to remind the reader 
that the German mark and English shilling are each worth 
about twenty-five cents, and the franc, used in France, 
Belgium, Switzerland and Italy, about twenty cents. 
These are all silver. The mark is divided into a hun- 
dred pfennigs, the franc into a hundred centimes. The 
copper five centime piece is commonly called a sou. In 
Italy the franc is called a lira, but the currency is largely 
paper and somewhat depreciated. 

Mobile, Ala., August 20, 1893. 





^\S 


Pa^;:^ 


. ^9^ 


r M^ b^ 


lw 




^C^^VvF 




"J^ 




t^^^ 


^^^^ 


» 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

ON THE OCEAN ....... I 

Cousin Dan's proposition — Itinerary — Off on the trip — S. S. 
Rotterdam — Meals — Amusements at sea — Fire — Storm — 
Bow, stern and hold — Arrival at Boulogne. 

CHAPTER II. 

AIX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE . . . . I3 

Brussels — Waterloo — Aix-la-Chapelle (Aachen) — Town hall 
and cathedral — Charlemagne's empire — " Reclamation " — 
Cologne — Cook's Tours — Characteristics of Gothic architec- 
ture — Cologne cathedra] and churches — Queen Louise — The 
Rhine trip to Mainz — Castles and Legends — Lorelei — Na- 
tional Monument — Sunday at Wiesbaden. 

CHAPTER III. 

HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR ; THE LUTHER AND GOETHE 

COUNTRY ........ 29 

Mainz (Mayence) and Worms — Heidelberg castle — The Pala- 
tinate — Frankfort — The Electors — The Ariadne — Railroad 
travelling — Luther's country — Wartburg — Erfurt — Witten- 
berg — Weimar — Goethe and Schiller. 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IV. 

PAGE 

LEIPZIG : ITS UNIVERSITY AND ITS BATTLE FIELDS . 42 

Museum — Old Leipzig — New quarters — German Supreme 
Court — Visit to Frau Paetzel — The University — Student life 
— Lectures — Wundt — Windscheid — -Other celebrities — Bat- 
tle field of Breitenfeld— Battle field of Llitzen — Battle of 
Leipzig — Napoleonstein — Celebration of Sedan Day. 

CHAPTER V. 

DRESDEN : ITS COLLECTIONS AND HISTORY . . 58 

Museum — Sistine Madonna — Other great pictures — King 
Albert and Queen Carola at church — The Green Vault — 
Historical relics — Porcelain collection — Briihl Terrace — 
Rietschel — Sketch of Saxon history. 

CHAPTER VI. 

CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH . . -70 

Saxon Switzerland — Carlsbad — Bohemia — Nuremberg — 
Torture as a fine art — The Iron Virgin — Munich — Handsome 
streets — Picture galleries — Rubens and Murillo — Sculpture 
gallery — Hall of Fame — Sketch of Bavarian history. 



CHAPTER VII. 

CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND . . -83 

Outline of Swiss topography — Constance and its lake — Huss 
— Upper Rhine — Schaffhausen — Falls of the Rhine — Zurich 
— Zwingli — Lake dwellings — Lucerne — Thorwaldsen's Lion 
— Glacier Garden — Riitli — Tell — The Eidgenossen — The 
Rigi — Pilatus — Brunnig Pass — Interlaken and Grindelwald. 



CONTENTS. Xi 

CHAPTER VIII. 

PAGE 

BERNE AND FRENCH SWITZERLAND . . . -99 

Berne — Swiss railroad cars — Sunset on Lake Geneva — Lau- 
sanne — Geneva — Famous citizens — Calvin's sway — Genevan 
history — Voltaire at Ferney — Lake Geneva — Chillon — Cha- 
mouny — Zermatt and the Matterhorn — German again. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE SIMPLON PASS AND ITALIAN LAKES . 

Brieg — Diligences — Simplon road — Hospice — Italian cus- 
tom-house — Grand Hotel at Pallanza — Lake Maggiore — 
Borromean Islands — Lake Lugano — St. Gotthard railway — 
Lake Como — Villa Carlotta — Monza. 



CHAPTER X. 

MILAN AND ITALIAN HISTORY . 

The Last Supper — Cathedral — Roman history : i. The Re- 
public of Rome, Development of the City ; 2. The Empire 
of Rome, Csesars ; 3. The Roman Empire, Its division ; 4. 
Holy Roman Empire, Pope and Emperor — Milan's history. 



CHAPTER XL 

VENICE ......... 133 

Grand Canal — Gondolas — Pension Anglaise — Square of St. 
Mark's — Streets, canals and bridges — Sketch of Venetian 
history^St. Mark's — Campanile and its views — Frari Church 
— Titian and Canova — Venetian architecture — Shylock at 
home. 



Xll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XII. 

PAGB 

FLORENCE AND ART 148 

Our financial troubles — Description of Florence — Its history 
— Italian Gothic — Cathedral — Campanile — Baptistery — His- 
torical sketch of modern painting — Uffizi gallery — Venus de' 
Medici — Niobe — Pitti gallery — Madonna of the Chair — 
Salvator Rosa's landscapes — Michael Angelo's sculptures — 
The New Sacristy — Loggia dei Lanzi — Church of Santa 
Croce. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

ROME AND ITS RUINS ...... 166 

Marble and dirt — Via Nazionale and the Corso — Topogra- 
phy of ancient Rome — Columns of Trajan and Aurelius— 
The Forum — Via Sacra — Mamertine Prison — Trajan's cut — 
Palatine Hill — Capitoline Hill^Colosseum — Baths of Cara- 
calla — Pantheon — Lateran church and palace — The Sacred 
Stairs. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

ST. Peter's and the Vatican .... 182 

Pasquin — The Borgo — St. Peter's — Its interior — Statues and 
paintings — Graves — Tasso — The Vatican — Sistine Chapel — 
Raphael's Stanze — Transfiguration — Sculpture galleries — 
Apollo — Laocoon — Tapestries. 

CHAPTER XV. 

environs of ROME 1 95 

Graves of Keats and Shelley — Appian Way — Catacombs — 
Grotto of Egeria — Circus of Maxentius — Tomb of Caecilia 
Metella — St. Paul's — The Alban country — The Alban Lake 
— Tusculanum — Lost in classic woods — A night at a peas- 
ant's — Lake Nemi — The Alban Mount — Passionist monas- 
tery — Pompey's tomb — Emissarius — Terni — Falls of the 
Velino. 



CONTENTS. xili 

CHAPTER XVI. 

PAGE 

THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS ..... 209 

The Campagna — The Maremme — Pisa — Cathedral — Swing- 
ing lamp — Baptistery — Campo Santo — Leaning Tower — 
Mediterranean coast — Genoa — Columbus — Hotel Smith — 
Riviera views — Monaco — Nice — Marseilles — Avignon and 
the Popes — The Proven9al cities — Lyons— Railroad express 
— Disagreeable neighbor — Fontainebleau — Arrival in Paris. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

PARIS : ITS HISTORIC MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS . 222 
History of the city — How Paris made France — Place de la 
Concorde — Champs Elysees — Hotel des Invalides — Napo- 
leon and Josephine — Eiffel Tower — Column Vendome — 
Tuileries — Louvre — Hotel de Ville — Bastille — Palais de 
Justice — Sainte Chapelle^Notre Dame — The Morgue — 
Pantheon — Cemetery of Pere la Chaise — St, Denis — Visit to 
Versailles — St. Cloud. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

PARIS : THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS . . . 239 

Hotel meals — Our landlady — Magasins — Omnibus travel — 
Boulevards — Opera — Lohengrin and the Boulangists — 
Louvre collections — Recent Persian discoveries — Greek 
sculptures — Venus of MiLo — Diana — Louvre picture gallery 
— Sketch of French painting — Crossing the Channel. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

LONDON . . . 253 

Outline sketch of London — West End — Westminster Abbey 
— Its chapels — English Gothic — Parliament House — West- 
minster Hall — The palaces — "To the Bank" on a 'bus — 
Trafalgar Square — National Gallery — Turner and English 
painting — Law Inns and Courts — St. Paul's — Tombs of 



XIV 



CONTENTS. 



Nelson and Wellington — Famous sites — London Bridge — 
The Tower — Regalia and armor — State prisoners — Bank of 
England — Route back to West End — South Kensington 
Museum — British Museum — Elgin marbles — Underground 
railway — Tussaud's Wax Works. 



CHAPTER XX. 



HOMEWARD BOUND 



279 



Windsor — Oxford — The colleges — Stratford-on-Avon — 
Shakspere's birthplace — His home — His grave — Chester — 
Liverpool — On the City of Paris — Jaunting car at Queens- 
town — Description of the ship — History of ocean travel — 
Journal of our voyage — The storm — The engine stopped — 
Custom-house inspection — Arrival at New York. 



INDEX 



295 




ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Castle of Chillon, from Lake Geneva . . Frontispiece 

Coronation Hall at Aix-la-Chapelle . . , 13 

Rheinfels Castle, on the Rhine 26 

The Court of Heidelberg Castle 31 

Where Napoleon Stood on the Field of Leipzig . 56 

Where Huss and Jerome were Burned .... 86 

Calvin's Church at Geneva 103 

The Arsenal at Venice 133 

The Roman Forum, from the Capitoline Hill . 166 
(Arch of Septimius Severus, Temple of Saturn and Basilica 
Julia in the foreground ; Comitium, Colosseum, Arch of 
Titus and Temple of Castor and Pollux in the back- 
ground.) 
The Palace of the Popes at Avignon . . . .218 

Notre Dame, from the Seine 233 

Interior of Westminster Hall 261 




RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS 



CHAPTER I. 



"\17HERE do 
'^ trip?" as 



ON THE OCEAN. 

you intend to go on your wedding 
rip;'" asked cousin Dan at the dinner table 
one day, when that not distant event was under dis- 
cussion, 

"To Niagara, I suppose," I replied laughing, "but 
I would like to go to Europe." 

" How much would it cost for two," he said. 

I had spent thirteen months abroad eleven years be- 
fore, mainly studying at Leipzig University. All told it 
had cost $800.00, but I had lived economically. I rashly 
thought that on even a more liberal basis a trip of four 
to five months could hardly exceed $300.00 apiece. 

So I answered, " About six hundred dollars." 

He slapped his hand on the table and said, " I will 
make you a present of the trip ! " 

I had not expected that, even from him, but recovered 
my breath enough to thank him, and then rushed down 
town to tell her about it. 



2 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

The next few months passed on, and while she was 
busy about dresses I was fixing up our itinerary. I had 
when abroad priced at Cologne some of the tours offered 
by Thos. Cook & Son, the tourist agents, but found that 
I could travel cheaper third class on my own account 
and so never bought their tickets. This time I thought 
I had better try them again so as to save the trouble of 
buying tickets at every stop. 

I got into correspondence with them and soon ar- 
ranged for second-class tickets for two on a long tour 
selected by ourselves. I felt a little hesitancy as to how 
to speak about Rachel in these letters, as I did not care 
to talk of the trip as an intended bridal tour, and yet 
could not say that I was married. But I did resolutely 
mention " my wife " nevertheless. I suppose Cook knew 
no better, although he may have noticed that I especially 
declined to go with any party, personally conducted or 
otherwise. I never told Rachel about it until we were 
married and on the ocean, when she was much amused. 
It was finally all arranged, ^484.00 remitted, and I was to 
obtain the tickets when we arrived in New York. They 
were first class on steamers and second class on rail- 
roads. 

The itinerary as finally corrected gave days and 
places and was as methodical as Haydn's Dictionary of 
Dates. Here it is : 

ITINERARY. 

July S —Leave N. Y. (S.S. " Rotterdam.") 

17 — Arrive Boulogne. 

18 — Brussels. 

19 — Aix-la-Chapelle. (Sunday.) 

20 — Cologne. 

21 — Rhine Steamer to Mainz. 

22 — Heidelberg via Worms. 



ON THE OCEAN. 3 

23-24 — To Leipzig via quickest route, &c. 
25-26 — Dresden. (26, Sunday.) 

27 — To Munich via Carlsbad. 
28-29 — Munich. 

30 — Lindau and Lake Constance. 

31 — ^Constance and to Zurich via Schaffhausen. 
Aug. I — Zurich. 

2 — Lucerne. (Sunday.) 

3 —Steamer, Rigi and return to Fluelen. 

4 — Railway to Goeschenen, Diligence to Rhone Glacier. 

5 — Meiringen and Giessbach. 

6 — Brienz, Interlaken. 

7 — Faulhorn and Grindelwald. 

8 — Thun, Berne and Lausanne. 

9 — Lausanne and Geneva. (Sunday.) 

10 — Steamer to Chillon, Railway to Brieg. 

11 — Simplon Pass to Arona. 

12 —Steamer by Borromeau Islands to Luino, Lugano. 
13-14 — Menaggio and Lake excursions, to Bellagio. 
15-16 — Como and Milan. (16 Sunday.) 

17 — Milan to Venice. 
18-19 — Venice. 

20-22 — Florence and to Rome 22d. 
23-30 — Rome. 
31 — Pisa and to Genoa. 
Sept. I — Nice to Avignon. 

2 — Avignon and to Lyons. 

3 — Lyons. 

4 — Fontainebleau. 

5-12 — Paris, (to Rouen 12th.) 

13 — Rouen. (Sunday.) 

14 — Dieppe — Newhaven to London. 
15-22- — London. 

23 — To Melrose via Peaks of Derbyshire, &c. 

24 — Melrose Abbey, Abbotsford, Dryburgh. 
25— 27— Edinburgh. (27 Sunday.) 

28 — Trossachs. 

2g — To Liverpool. 

30 — To New York by Steamer " City of Paris." 



4 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

I showed it to my mother. Her comment was that it 
was good, but that I had named no days for headaches. 

The important event finally came off and we left for 
our trip. We spent a few days, of course, at Niagara 
and New York, and then prepared to take the steamer. 
We called at Cook's office and obtained our ocean 
tickets and an order on the Netherlands line office at 
Boulogne for others. 

We had chosen the " Rotterdam " of the Netherlands 
line in order to go direct to the continent and avoid 
crossing the channel on a small steamer. While this 
is one of the smaller lines and not ranking first in speed, 
we were assured that it was safe and comfortable. 

Our first sight of the steamship was on the night of the 
seventh of July, 189 1, when we took a cab from the New 
York Hotel across the ferry to Jersey City in a driving 
rain and were let out at a pier covered with a spacious 
frame warehouse. We climbed up the staging to the 
big black steamer, looming up indistinctly before us, and 
were shown down two stairways to our little state-room 
on the right or starboard side. An incandescent lamp 
was burning, but there was also a port hole not far above 
water line, which lighted and ventilated the room in the 
daytime. Below the port hole was a seat or berth and 
opposite were the upper and lower berths for ourselves. 
Opposite the door was the ingenious washstand arrange- 
ment that was pulled down for use and at pleasure shut 
up to empty the water. Everywhere was the green 
Dutch flag and " N. A. S. M.," the initials of the 
Company. 

Then we explored the dining saloon above our state- 
room and found two long tables on each side, with 



ON THE OCEAN. 5 

Stationary seats upholstered in red velvet, and at the for- 
ward end discovered a good piano and music. While 
there an agent gave us the gratifying information that 
Messrs. Cook & Son had let us pay too much for our 
ocean tickets. We had paid at summer rates, which are 
higher, when in some way July should according to 
Dutch calculation be in the winter schedule. As the 
result was ^26.00 in our favor we agreed to reform the 
calendar. Evidently the topsy-turviness of an ocean 
trip had affected the Zodiac too. As the price was only 
^80.00 for the two at first, this made the cost about 
equal to the expense of boarding for the same length of 
time at a fair hotel on land. 

After this pleasant episode we went out again on the 
covered pier and promenaded, watching with interest 
the preparations for leaving. We saw our lone trunk 
and big satchel, with labels attached, go aboard, and 
tried to guess who of the arriving people would be our 
particular associates on the voyage. A pleasant surprise 
was meeting in the surgeon of the ship a Mobilian and 
friend, of whom we had lost trace for some years and 
whom we now hardly recognized in his jaunty blue 
uniform. 

We went to bed after a while in our narrow berths. 
The novelty of the position, the noise of the steam winch 
and the shouting of orders by apparently every one on 
deck banished sleep for a long time. When we awoke 
there was no noise, and daylight streamed in the port 
hole. We looked out and found that we were moving. 
We were off Sandy Hook and our trip to Europe had 
begun. 

The official introduction to sea life was at breakfast. 
Our friend the surgeon was at the head of one table and 



6 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

put US on his left and carefully attended to Rachel. 
Almost every one was out to breakfast and we found 
that we helped make up a passenger li?t of forty or fifty. 
The food was excellent and when our appetites had re- 
covered from the uneasiness of the first two or three 
days the principal pleasure of the day was the gong to 
meals. The dishes were French {a la Dutch) and after 
we had become used to the singular appearance of some 
of them we liked the cooking very much. The favorite 
dishes were currie and similar combinations, and gravies 
and good pastry were part of every meal. At 7:30 a.m. 
was a cold breakfast with coffee, at noon a hot lunch, at 
5 P.M. a formal dinner of many courses, and at 9 a cold 
supper. The service was excellent. At our table 
were two handsome Dutch boys who were very attentive 
waiters. 

For the first few days sea-sickness was prevalent and 
as the patients gradually came on deck their pale faces 
and weak condition marked them out. They were not 
all ladies. I recall one young man who did not come 
out on deck for a week. During an excitement which I 
will describe he was told that the ship Avas on fire and he 
must save himself. He languidly replied, " Let her 
sink," and turned over in his berth. Gradually, how- 
ever, the breezes and salt air brought all the invalids 
around, and the services of the chambermaid in bringing 
up meals were less and less demanded. She, by the 
way, was quite pretty and a great favorite. All called 
her Jungfrau for short. 

In our usually placid life on shipboard the first thing 
in the morning was getting steamer extension chairs 
located in a shady place and lashed to some fixed part 
of the vessel. The next important matter would be vig- 



ON THE OCEAN. 7 

orous promenades after breakfast, and indeed after each 
meal. Up and down one side, or up one side and down 
the other, they went in couples until onlookers, like 
themselves, were tired. Walking was often no easy work. 
We gradually, however, got our sea legs and learned to 
navigate the uncertain deck, balancing to accommodate 
ourselves to the roll of the ship, and after a while we 
could promenade at all angles, in humble imitation of 
the sailors and of Captain Van der Zee, the commander, 
whom no lurch surprised. We became so accustomed 
to the motion of the ship that on reaching land we 
walked for days with feet some distance apart to guard 
against possible disturbance of the terra firma. At noon 
we learned the vessel's progress from a little chart daily 
posted up near the dining room door, and the unquench- 
able betting propensity of some of the passengers would 
be gratified by pools and wagers on the speed. We gen- 
erally made in the neighborhood of 200 miles a day, but 
often somewhat less. 

In the course of a few days the passengers gradually 
became acquainted and divided off into congenial 
groups. We took as naturally here by ourselves in mid- 
ocean to sets and criticism as on land, and in fact as we 
had more leisure we noticed things that on shore we 
would not. We were taking up prejudices and having 
them removed all during the trip. The ship was a little 
world and as we could not escape each other we got 
closer together in those twelve days than we would in 
years of casual intercourse on land. 

We were sitting out on deck by the ladies' cabin one 
evening at twilight, the chairs lashed to the house, hold- 
ing on as the ship rolled. It was not far in front of the 
forward smoke stack and its smoke sometimes blew down 



8 " RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

on us. We then noticed more of it than usual and 
suddenly found ourselves enveloped in a choking cloud. 
We instinctively rose to our feet. There was a great 
commotion below the gratings about the smoke stack and 
we were able to make out that the smoke was pouring up 
from them. We hurriedly grouped towards the ladies' 
cabin, losing each other on the way. The electric lamps 
were burning and there we saw an assemblage of blanched 
and silent people gazing with wide open eyes at the black 
volumes rolling past the cabin door. I went out to dis- 
cover what I could and found the captain by the grat- 
ings shouting orders, — in Dutch. The officers had neither 
time nor inclination to talk, and as they hurried about 
on their several duties we looked at them and tried in 
vain to make out the probable result from their manner. 
I went down on the main deck and found the crew pass- 
ing buckets of water from the side down into the boiler 
room, but they were all Dutch and I could get nothing 
out of them that I could understand. It looked very 
serious. I gazed out on the angry ocean and felt that 
if the fire got beyond control and we took to the boats, 
they could not live in so high a sea. 

The suspense lasted at least an hour and then the 
captain came to the ladies' cabin and in his usual bland 
manner announced that everything was all right again. 
Some tar barrels which had been carried to the boiler 
spaces to be heated for use had been upset by the motion 
of the vessel and caught fire, but only burned themselves 
out. He said he was proud of the behavior of his 
passengers. None of the ladies had exhibited any undue 
emotion. He then considerately ordered up some cham- 
pagne from the ship's stores and a glass around did much 
to restore equanimity. Not a few, however, had a sus- 



ON THE OCEAN. 9 

picion that the fire was only half smothered and slept 
lightly for some nights. These regaled us with stories of 
how fire had been found in vessels' holds and raged for 
days unrevealed to hapless passengers. 

We had hardly become re-assured and cheerful again 
when a night or so later the steamer broke her shaft near 
the stern at a point hard to reach. We lay to all of that 
night mending it and the splice made in mid-ocean un- 
der these circumstances was said to be remarkable. The 
accident was not made known generally, but the daily 
record of only half as many knots as previously told the 
tale, and we finished the voyage at half speed. 

The chapter was not even yet complete. We had to 
endure also a severe storm, and during it the passengers 
were locked below in the cabin while the ship toiled on 
under bare poles against high wind and wave. The 
Rotterdam's promenade deck does not run the length of 
the ship, and standing at the forward port holes of the 
dining saloon we could gaze out across the open main 
deck at the mountainous green sea through which our 
ship was painfully working her way. Every now and 
then a wave would sweep over the deck immediately be- 
fore our eyes and the scuppers could hardly carry off the 
water before another deluge came, or the sea would strike 
the ship a blow sounding like thunder and under it she 
would quiver from stem to stern. The view of the mad 
waves fighting each other as well as pounding the ship, 
rising high to dash into spray, and then falling away again, 
was grand. The ship would careen so far to one side 
that we had to hold on to keep our feet, and it was with 
recurring relief that we felt the roll cease and the vessel 
gradually recover. There were many passengers sick 
and frightened that day and night, and meals were eaten 



lO RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

under difficulties. Even the racks for dishes and plates 
were insufficient, and soups and liquids were liberally 
distributed over the passengers, while solids slid across 
the tables like avalanches. At some of the rolls all of 
us would instinctively stop eating to wait and be certain 
that the ship was going to regain the perpendicular. 
Sleep at night was out of the question. The sideboards to 
the berths were up, but to stay in the box thus made one 
had to remain awake and hold to its sides. Fortunately 
the spliced shaft worked all through this pounding and 
no actual injury to the good ship occurred. 

The storm gradually subsided, however, and in a few 
days it was but a disagreeable memory. One bright 
morning a party of ladies and gentlemen went forward 
and sat in the bow. We watched the beautiful lacework 
of the spray as the ship cut through the green water and 
for hours gazed lazily out at the dancing waves around 
us. In fine weather this is the most enjoyable place on 
the vessel. Behind us the masts and ship rocked steadily 
from side to side almost as if a different thing from the 
part Avhere we sat. We saw no sail, and in fact seldom 
did on the voyage, for it is rather an event to sight one 
or even detect the smoke trail of a distant steamer. Out- 
ward bound ships pursue a different track from inward 
in order to avoid collisions, and so they are not often in 
sight except near shore. We went also one day to the 
extreme stern and stood in the railed place Avhere they 
throw the log. This is now not of wood or even the tri- 
angular piece of canvas which they used on the Erin 
when I went over some years ago, but a little brass screw 
attached to a line. The line registers on deck the revo- 
lutions of the screw, and, as each revolution means a 
certain distance forward, this tells the speed. At both 



ON THE OCEAN. II 

bow and stern one is so far from the life of the vessel 
that he feels strangely lonesome. 

But the most interesting part of the ship I thought was 
the boiler room, away down on the floor of the hold. The 
surgeon took me there one day and I had to hold on to such 
steep ladders in the descent that I forgot to count the land- 
ings. Finally we were on the bottom before the hot 
furnaces, into which blackened, half naked stokers were 
continually throwing coal. There was much less rocking 
perceptible there than on deck, but the heat was intense 
despite the ventilators. As this is below water level, 
ashes and the like have to be put in buckets, hauled up 
to the main deck and thrown overboard. We crept 
through between the boilers and found some more fur- 
naces, for they are placed end to end and fired frorh 
opposite extremities. Above us we saw iron stairways 
and gratings in several floors, and it was on one of these 
landings that the tar had burned and so alarmed us. I 
was glad to go up on deck at last and escape from the 
heat. 

Finally the voyage neared its end. From day to day 
we had been platting our progress on the little charts and 
were told to expect land about noon of July 19th. True 
enough, about that time the officers on the bridge saw it 
a little off the port bow, and excitement ran through the 
whole ship. Glasses were in demand. There indeed we 
saw sticking up out of the sea at the horizon a pencil, 
which we were told was the lighthouse on Bishop's Rock. 
All faces were wreathed with smiles, and Columbus hardly 
saw America with more joy than we did this outpost of 
the Scilly Islands. Gradually we came nearer and could 
see the rocks and breakers and then the main land 
behind, and all that day and the next we were in sight of 



12 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

the south coast of England. Cliffs, parks, towns and 
green fields again became familiar to the grateful eye. 
France was invisible off to the south, but we were told 
that we would arrive at Boulogne late that night, and we 
prepared again for land. We passed many vessels, and 
at last sent up rockets off Boulogne, answered in turn by 
a green, then a white, and then a green rocket from the 
Netherlands people ashore. 

Then came farewells, the inevitable donations to wait- 
ers, packing of satchels, and at 3 a.m. July 2 ist we changed 
to a Netherlands line tender amid kind words and the 
singing of " Good night, ladies." The long black ship 
was stationary, while our little side wheel boat steamed 
off with a dozen of us who did not care to go on to Am- 
sterdam. We looked back with regret as the Rotterdam 
faded into darkness, but were soon absorbed in the 
French jargon of the crew and in the lights gleaming 
from the shore. 

We entered Boulogne between two long piers, disem- 
barked on one of them, and passed a perfunctory 
customs search for whiskey and tobacco. Then we were 
led in a solemn procession to the railroad depot, where 
our trunks also were delivered, and last of all we were 
conducted by an alleged interpreter to the little Hotel du 
Luxembourg, where they were evidently not expecting 
us. Mr. Luxembourg seemed to be sleeping very sound- 
ly, as it took a long time to ring any one up. At length, 
however, we succeeded and were shown up a winding 
stairway, to enjoy our first sleep in Europe. 




CHAPTER II. 

AIX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE. 

T^HE morning of our arrival at Boulogne we had a 
pleasant breakfast to ourselves in the neat dining 
room and the amusement of practising on the waitress 
the French which we had been studying and rehearsing 
aboard the steamer. We then changed a pretty gold 
Napoleon, paid the bill and started off down the quaint, 
narrow street. Tiled brick houses, old women with huge 
baskets of vegetables, hard working men with blue blouses 
hanging outside their pantaloons, sidewalks so narrow 
that almost every one takes to the stone roadway,— these 
were the first impressions we had of Boulogne. It is re- 
markable too how the same characteristics cropped up in 
every city of continental Europe that we visited. The 
old towns were all alike, regardless of country. 

Our first care was to find the office of the Netherlands 
Company, whence we sent a cable, mailed letters, and we 
also arranged to forward our big trunk to await us at 
Pans. We obtained the tourist tickets to Cologne, where 
we were to get the remaining books for the summer trip. 
As the first train left at ii a.m. we had no time to lose. 
At the quiet station we got from the trunk such clothes 
as we thought would be needed for two months and put 

13 



14 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

them in our two satchels, of course in such a hurry as to 
give me for outer clothing only the gray suit I had on, 
destined to rival in color before we came to Paris the 
black one in the trunk. The polite porter examined our 
tickets and from admiring and asking about my engraved 
watch let us miss the through train to Brussels, and then 
passed us through the locked doors separating the stuffy 
waiting rooms from the car shed just in time for us to 
get into cars that stopped at Lille, and we were off on our 
travels. We had to wait at Lille for another train, which 
finally landed us in Brussels in the afternoon. 

On arriving at Brussels we took a cab and were driven 
to what Baedeker said was the "unpretending" Hotel 
Vienne, but the description was true only in the sense 
that the hotel was in a back street and had no elevator. 
It was comfortable, however, if rather expensive, and our 
day of rambles in Brussels was very pleasant. The 21st 
of July, the date of our arrival, is the anniversary of the 
separation of Belgium from Holland in 1830, and was 
celebrated by illuminations. The designs in colored 
lights on the high fence of the park opposite the royal 
palace were particularly fine. The vast and enthusiastic 
crowds showed that Belgium is a patriotic country. In- 
deed this densely populated little state, organized as a 
buffer on the north-east against French ambition, and 
whose very existence has to be guaranteed by interna- 
tional treaties, was regarded, up to the recent agitation 
for universal suffrage, as rather a model for the rest of 
Europe. The form of government is constitutional. 
King Leopold I., uncle of Queen Victoria and long her 
guardian, was its first ruler. 

In our strolls we had some amusing struggles with our 
French, and the shopkeepers and street car people en- 



ATX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE. 1 5 

joyed it as much as we did. St. Gudule there was our 
first experience of cathedrals and the beautiful effect of 
its stained glass windows and lofty arches has never been 
forgotten. The old high roofed city hall, the Exchange 
and the fine art gallery were like others we were to see, 
but the imposing Palais de Justice, by Polaert, situated 
on a commanding hill, is a modern architectural wonder. 

We left for Aachen (or Aix-la-Chapelle) the next day 
and had a pleasant but uneventful ride. On the road 
the lion monument crowning the huge mound in the val- 
ley at Waterloo may be seen, miles away to the right. 
There June 18, 18 15, the allied army and the French 
were separated by this depression, across which a high- 
way ran towards Brussels. In the hollow, some distance 
apart, were the famous Hougoumont and La Haye Sainte, 
so desperately charged and fought over by the two armies 
until the arrival of fresh Prussians on Wellington's left 
resulted in the total defeat of Napoleon. The huge 
mound covers the allied dead and was erected as their 
monument. 

On passing out of Belgium into Germany, as on coming 
into it from France, we went through a lax customs ex- 
amination. Everything now became military. Police, 
postmen, guards, all wore uniforms and had an erect car- 
riage. Indeed the difference between soldiers and all 
other men in Germany seemed but a difference of degree. 
All were soldierly. 

Our stop for the night was at Aachen, the native name 
for Aix-la-Chapelle, the seat of Charlemagne's govern- 
ment and last resting place of his body. Our hotel was 
near the station and sleep was taken on the instalment 
plan. It was grateful to my ear to hear German again, 
but we do not recollect the hotel pleasantly, because, 



1 6 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

strange to say, they had wine and no bier, and, worst of 
all, for an omelette gave us a mountain of white of eggs 
which crumbled at the touch. This was our introduction 
to Germany. 

The two places of chief interest at Aachen are the 
Cathedral and Rathhaus or Town Hall built on the site 
of Charlemagne's palace. The cathedral is made up of 
massive octagonal tower and dome 104 feet high, erected 
by Charlemagne as a chapel to his palace, and a later 
Gothic nave or choir back of it, with beautiful stained 
glass windows. Otho III. ventured in a.d. iooo to open 
Charlemagne's tomb in his chapel, and found him seated 
on a marble chair. Frederick Barbarossa opened it a 
second time, transferred the remains to an ancient sar- 
cophagus and dedicated the chair to the coronation of 
future emperors. Fortunate Charlemagne was canonized, 
but his unfortunate remains were yet a third time dis- 
turbed, on this occasion to be removed by the grandson 
of Barbarossa to a golden reliquary, their final resting 
place. This is still in the treasury and is shown by a 
priest with caskets containing the robe of the virgin, the 
swaddling clothes of the infant Jesus and other trust- 
worthy relics. 

Charlemagne is claimed by both French and Germans, 
but with more justice possibly by the latter, as the 
Roman Empire which his coronation in Rome a.d. 800 
re-instituted survived in the East Frank division of his 
German kingdom until our own century, although it is 
true that it was little more than nominal from the death 
in 1250 of Frederick II., the Wonder of the World. 
Under Frederick's grandfather Barbarossa, who prefixed 
the word "Holy" to the "Roman Empire," and bade 
Saladin retire from his Asiatic Roman provinces, it was 



AIX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE, 1/ 

anything but nominal, and in fact it was not until the 
seventeenth century that the emperors conceded the title 
"Your Majesty" to the kings of France and England. 
Here at this cathedral, in the presence of its dead 
founder, in the magnificent Imperial Chamber of the 
adjacent Rathhaus, ornamented with frescoes of the 
early emperors and itself the place of their coronation, 
the old empire seems indeed real again. The Saxon 
Othos, the Franconian Henries battling with such popes 
as Hildebrand, the Suabian Fredericks trying to make 
their sovereignty over Italy a practical domination, 
whether in our opinion wise or not, were great men 
according to their mediaeval ideals, and did their best in 
the impossible task of building up a new universal Ro- 
man Empire. The German King, when crowned at 
Milan with the Lombard iron crown and by the Pope at 
Rome with the golden imperial crown, became the 
Roman Emperor, supreme in temporal affairs as the 
Pope was in spiritual. Pope and Emperor were to be 
the two swords of God's rule on earth. Modern history 
begins, however, with the growth of the distinct German 
nationality from the time of the interregnum and quarter 
century of anarchy which succeeded the death of Fred- 
erick II. From the time that the election of Rudolf in 
1273 ended the interregnum until 1806 the old empire 
was vested in the house of Hapsburg and of Austria ; 
but it was merely a titular precedence of a so-called 
kaiser over all but independent dukes, electors and 
margraves, an appanage of the one family which had 
sufficient hereditary possessions to support the title. As 
Voltaire said, the Holy Roman Empire finally became 
anything but Holy, Roman or Imperial. German develop- 
ment is independent if not hostile to this phantom empire, 
2 



l8 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

for the historical chapters of modern German history are 
the growth of Austria, the Reformation, the Thirty 
Years' War, the growth of Prussia, the era of Napoleon, 
and the later supremacy of Prussia. 

While on the train to Cologne our historical musings 
were disturbed by the guard's discovering that I had not 
had our tickets stamped at Boulogne, a fact which the 
railroad people in France and Belgium had not noticed. 
I could not for a long time make out what he meant by 
" stempel " and " reclamation," but finally understood 
that I had to buy tickets over again from the German 
frontier to Cologne and trust to Cook's refunding the 
price of our dishonored book. Rachel thought at first 
that we were arrested for something, but I bought new 
tickets at one halt, and we then had no more trouble. 
The Cook agency at Cologne promptly refunded the 
money on our arrival, although it was all my own fault 
in not studying the directions. 

At Cologne we spent several delightful days, housed 
at five marks (or $1.25) each per day in the pleasant 
little Hotel Paris across from the church of the Minor- 
ites. This church contains the tomb of Duns Scotus, 
the eminent Scotch theologian, who flourished at Paris 
in the thirteenth century, and from whose name is inap- 
propriately derived our word dunce. 

Cologne, Koeln in German, is a city of 260,000 people, 
with a history dating back to the time of the Romans, 
from whose colonia of veterans, placed here by the 
mother of Nero, it derives its name. Like most of the 
old Rhenish towns it is on the west bank of the river, the 
side whence came Roman civilization. Aachen, the seat 
of the Carolingian Empire, was near, and Cologne in 
that period became an important place, subject to its 



AIX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE. 1 9 

own archbishop, who was an elector of the German 
e-mperors from about the twelfth century. Mediaeval 
Cologne was rent by contests between archbishops and 
citizens, its nobles and guilds, but the archbishop was 
finally driven out and Cologne was for centuries a lead- 
ing member first of the Rhenish and then of the Hanse- 
atic League. The first meeting of the Hanseatic League 
is said to have taken place 1367 in the Hansa Saal, still 
shown in the imposing Cologne Rathhaus, which we 
visited. 

The most interesting study in Cologne, however, is its 
churches, Romanesque and Gothic. Greek architecture 
in its origin reproduces in stone or marble the artificial 
wooden house, with posts and beams. The Roman 
added the arch and dome. It was left for the races of 
the north, after imitating through Christian influence the 
classic work in its general tendency, but not in detail, to 
strike out a new and not less beautiful style, the Gothic, 
which seems to copy trees in its spires and the meeting 
of the forest boughs in its arches and interiors. Chris- 
tian churches were originally the flat roofed basilicas, 
with side aisles and at the rear a raised circular apse, 
adapted from the use of the Roman judges to that of the 
bishop and his assistants. Sometimes in the Romanesque 
period transepts gave the building the shape of a cross, 
and occasionally, as at Ravenna and Aachen, the church 
was round or polygonal and domed, rather in the style 
that architecture had taken in the east. The western 
Romanesque architects added a tower for bells (which 
were unknown to the ancients), generally a separate 
structure near the church, called a campanile. People 
could not read, and therefore the church was filled with 
paintings or mosaics of sacred subjects, just as later the 



20 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Gothic stained glass windows continued to make the 
church the people's Bible. 

In the Gothic style the ground-plan is normally a Latin 
cross, the nave and aisles constituting the long arm, the 
choir the short arm, the transepts the cross-piece. As the 
nave is higher than the aisles, a walk or triforium went 
around it at the height of their arches, and there were 
windows in the higher clerestory elevation of the nave. 
Sometimes the choir, too, as in Westminster Abbey, has 
around it a series of lower chapels, and the transepts are 
generally of the same height as the nave, but often with- 
out side aisles. Without between the windows the piers, 
whence spring its pointed arches, are fortified by but- 
tresses, which rise above the roof. Against these rest 
the round arches flying across over the aisle roof to sup- 
port the clerestory at the place where the pointed arch 
of the nave roof begins. The tower or lantern over the 
intersection of nave and transept, and the double bell 
towers, which were part of the front, facing west, com- 
plete the principal constituents of the Gothic church. 
The ribs, groins, tracery, statues and other ornamenta- 
tion are different in each case, while the acuteness or 
flatness of the arch, and particularly of the great outside 
windows, is the main test of the early or late age of the 
structure, and marks the periods of the Gothic. Gothic 
architecture, originating in the twelfth century in the 
north of France, soon spread over the world, leaving 
some of the noblest examples in Germany, indeed possi- 
bly its grandest result in the cathedral here at Cologne. 

A description of any church, and most of all of this, 
the noblest of all Gothic cathedrals, is diiificult if not 
impossible. To say that we found it of brown stone in 
the form of a Latin cross, about 450 feet long, the towers 



ATX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE. 21 

512 feet high, the roof of the nave 201 feet from the 
ground, the stained glass magnificent, — conveys an in- 
definite idea of vastness, perhaps too of color, but in this 
dissection the harmony and life of the building escape. 
Any Gothic building must be seen to be appreciated, and 
of this church even pictures are inadequate. Its large 
court is insufficient to show it properly in front, and the 
most satisfactory view is from the open places to the 
south, and from the spacious bridge over the yellow 
Rhine in its rear, whence the flying buttresses and lofty 
choir loom up above everything else in Cologne. The 
towers are as usual in the front fagade facing west, each 
divided into four stories, crowned by high open spires. 
The main portal, 93 feet high, is between the towers and 
above it is a noble stained glass window. Inside one 
sees but to admire the lofty nave and the choir with 
double side aisles, and transepts north and south ter- 
minating in external portals. Much of the stained glass 
is modern, presented by Ludwig I. from the Bavarian or 
by Wilhelm I. from the Berlin factories, and is nobly 
drawn and executed. A peculiarity which we noticed 
everywhere in colors on glass is that figures in red and 
yellow seem to stand out, and those in blue retreat, par- 
ticularly when seen through the opera glass, so useful in 
travelling. When the Virgin's dress is red and her mantle 
blue, the lower part of the figure seems to be walking 
away from the rest, as Rachel said. 

The cathedral was begun in 1248 by Meister Gerard, 
but has been centuries in building. By the fifteenth 
century the choir and nave were partly finished, but 
little more was done until the nineteenth. In all old 
pictures of Cologne a huge crane is seen on the south 
tower, a landmark of the city for four hundred years. 



22 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

The gradual absorption of the north German states by 
Prussia has its questionable features morally, but at 
least the government is always better, and old public 
works are carried out. During the French occupation 
the cathedral was a hay magazine. As soon as Prussia 
seized it her kings made plans to finish the edifice, and 
the actual work has gone on from 1823, the government 
paying most of the expense, but much coming also from 
donations and some even from a lottery. In August, 
1880, I saw the spires enveloped in platforms and scaf- 
folding, and the completion of the structure was cele- 
brated by appropriate ceremonies October 15th of the 
same year in the presence of the kaiser. 

There are not quite so many relics as usual in this 
cathedral, probably because it is largely modern. The 
bones of the three wise men from the east, discovered 
with so many other things by Helena, Constantine's 
mother, and brought first to Milan, rest in a reliquary in 
the treasury, and of course many local worthies are 
buried in the church. The heart of intriguing Marie, 
the exiled widow of Henry IV. of France, also reposes 
there under a slab. 

At Cologne are, however, other relics. In St. Gereon's 
church the bones of the Theban Legion of 318 Christians 
are in boxes around the walls. They were massacred 
here under Diocletian. In St. Ursula are the bones of 
that English princess and of her 11,000 virgin attendants, 
murdered at Cologne on their return from a pilgrimage 
to Rome. They are arranged in glass cases and make 
the church resemble an apothecary shop. However, I 
never question legends and relics. True or not they 
have edified and instructed many generations, and at 
least they show us what our ancestors believed and like 



AIX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE. 2$ 

Other poetry can if read aright touch our hearts too 
and make our own Hves sweeter and better. 

Of greater interest, though, we found the excellent 
museum, built with money given by the merchant 
Richartz. Its collections originated with the bequest of 
the artist Wallraf to his native city. Roman pavements, 
sculpture and architectural remains found at Cologne 
are here exhibited, and the stiff but famous mediaeval 
Cologne schools of painting are well represented. But 
the gem of all is Gustav Richter's beautiful picture of 
unfortunate Queen Louise of Prussia as she gracefully 
descends some steps, a star on her forehead, her white 
drapery sweeping behind her. The queen insulted by 
the first Napoleon was mother of the Wilhelm whose 
victories drove the third Napoleon from his throne and 
recovered German provinces which France had held for 
almost a century before Louise became queen. Camp- 
hausen's Wilhelm and his generals at Sedan and other 
good paintings and frescoes are in this museum, but the 
lovely face of Louise impressed us most and lives in 
our memories as among the most beautiful things of 
Europe. 

At Cologne, when we made our " reclamation " for dis- 
honored tickets, we obtained also the rest of our con- 
tinental tickets, a series of thin slips clamped together, 
those of each country making up one littk book. Cook's 
Tourist Agency, despite the retirement and lately the 
death of its founder, has in the hands of his descendants 
grown into a great and well managed system, with promi- 
nent, if small, offices in all large places. The Cooks are 
also bankers and we used their facilities with much satis- 
faction. With Cook's tickets and Baedeker's guide books 
we were well equipped. 



24 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Early in the morning of July 24th we went aboard tiie 
long, narrow steamer for a trip up the Rhine, and found 
there several friends from the Rotterdam, just arrived from 
Holland. The satchels were piled up around the smoke 
stack and we went forward to seats on the open upper 
deck to eat cherries and enjoy the views. When the 
swift steamer got under way we had to wrap up and 
indeed in the afternoon retired behind the funnels to 
avoid the sharp wind. It was colder than on the ocean. 

The Rhine generally runs between high banks ter- 
raced into vineyards, and on the heights are picturesque 
castles, mostly in ruins but some in use, and all with 
legends. The part of the river most travelled is the 119 
miles from Cologne to Mainz, above which are few 
attractions, and even between Cologne and Bonn is not 
much of interest. I visited a friend once at the univer- 
sity of Bonn and could well understand his love for the 
long buildings, shaded with trees, and the quaint old 
town. In the cemetery repose the historian Niebuhr, 
Bunsen, Schumann and also Schiller's wife. 

Near Bonn we went over the supposed site of Caesar's 
famous bridge and a short distance above the city on 
the opposite bank is the romantic Seven Mountains 
country. Here overlooking the Rhine are the ruins of 
Drachenfels, which I once climbed with difficulty to 
find little or nothing left but the wide view, celebrated 
in Childe Harold. Here at her home Roland met and 
loved Hildegunde, daughter of the lord of the Seven 
Mountains. After he went away she heard a rumor of 
her lover's death at Roncesvalles, and she took the veil 
at Nonnenwerth on an island higher up the stream. 
Roland, however, came back, but only to find her be- 
yond recall, and, as the best he could do, built a castle 



A IX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE:. 2% 

there on the Rhine overlooking the cloister, and lived 
disconsolate until at last her death induced his own. 

Further on the same right-hand side is the modern 
and beautiful Apollinaris church, built by Zwirner, (who 
finished the Cologne cathedral) and containing the head 
of St. Apollinaris of Ravenna. This head when it was 
on the way by river to Cologne with the bones of the 
Magi stopped the boat and indicated that it preferred 
to remain on this spot, and therefore here they built it a 
church. In this neighborhood is the Apollinaris spring 
whose water is famous the world over. The spring is 
leased to an English syndicate, who send to America 
alone almost a million bottles a month. 

As our boat went on up the river, making only short 
stops, we admired Andernach' with its walls, bastion and 
tower lying picturesquely on the right, and beyond at 
Coblenz saw the bridge of boats, which opened to let 
the steamer through. Near there fell and was buried 
the famous French general Marceau in 1796, and oppo- 
site this city is the famous fortress of Ehrenbreitstein, 
the Rhenish Gibraltar, approached from the river by an 
inclined plane. It is said that this castle cannot be 
starved in less than ten years, and cannot be stormed at 
all. Stolzenfels higher up the river, also on the right, is 
a restored and handsome castle belonging to the emperor. 
Not far beyond this is the octagonal Konigsstuhl near 
the confines of the Rhenish electorates of Cologne, Mainz, 
Treves and Palatinate, often the place of meeting of the 
electors to choose the German emperors. Then on the 
other bank came Sterrenberg and Liebenstein with their 
legend of two brothers, one noble and brave, the other 
selfish and faithless, even to the wife to whom both had 
paid court. Conrad, who had gone away in order to let 



26 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

his brother win her, now wished to avenge Hildegarde's 
wrongs, but she reconciled the brothers, and then re- 
tired to a convent below the castles. From the steamer 
we saw next majestic Rheinfels beyond on the right, the 
most extensive ruin on the river, and soon we curved 
around the famous Lorelei Rock. Here sat the enchan- 
tress and to lure sailors to their destruction sang as she 
combed her golden hair. Her echo still reverberates 
there, but huge as the rock looms up in the bend of the 
river, 430 feet above the water, with long slanting strata, 
at its foot has now been blasted a safe channel, and the 
saucy steamers below and the noisy railway piercing the 
mountain itself have driven Lorelei away from her 
haunts, and her German cliff by a bit of poetic injustice 
even pictures Napoleon's profile to imaginative eyes. 
Near here our patriotism was stirred by seeing the stars 
and stripes floating proudly from a tower of the castle of 
Schonburg. The Americans on the steamer, strangers 
to each other but moved by a common impulse, rushed 
to the side, waved hats and handkerchiefs and cheered 
lustily the emblem of our own united country, thus seen 
in the midst of mediaeval castles. Above near the queer 
Noah's Ark looking castle of Pfalz on an island, for- 
merly convenient for collecting blackmail on river com- 
merce, revengeful Blticher crossed into France after 
Napoleon's defeat at Leipzig, and since that time there 
have been no more castles on the Rhine blown up by the 
French. Then came Rheinstein, perched on a project- 
ing spur on the same side, picturesque and still in use. 

At the Mouse Tower in the river below Bingen legend 
says that retributive mice ate the cruel archbishop who 
once burned the poor in a famine because he said they 
consumed the corn like mice. It is a signal station now 



A IX, COLOGNE AND THE RHINE. 2/ 

and at this point the river widens into Bingen Bay. By 
Bingen, sacred to Mrs. Hemans' soldier of the legion, a 
channel has been blasted for the river commerce. Op- 
posite on the left amid rich Rudesheim vines, planted 
originally by Charlemagne and the most prized of all, 
stands facing west the majestic national monument of 
Germania by Schilling, its base iii feet high, the figure 
visible for miles in all directions. It was designed to 
commemorate the decisive war of 1 870-1 which both 
crushed France, her ancient enemy, and united Germany 
into one empire. 

We look back to the Rhine trip with much pleasure. 
Possibly the Hudson is by nature more imposing, but it 
has ugly ice warehouses instead of romantic castles and 
wild woods instead of carefully terraced vineyards, and 
is not for the present at least so attractive. Before the 
Hanseatic League built up foreign trade, the principal 
commerce of Europe was on the Rhine, and it was early 
the seat of civilization. For this reason rather than for 
the views these castles were built, some to oppress, but 
some to protect traffic. The river trade is still large, 
and besides passenger steamers we passed many strong 
tugs towing heavily laden barges. 

At Biebrich below Mainz we got off the steamer on 
the east bank near dark and as the 'bus was not avail- 
able the agent exchanged that ticket for a carriage to 
Wiesbaden. We were driven there in fine style, clatter- 
ing over good roads, people flocking out to see who it 
was that v/as making so much noise in the world, and at 
last we were set doAvn at the little Hotel Einhorn. 

At Wiesbaden we spent a quiet Sunday. During the 
day we wandered about the city, quaint in its old parts, 
beautiful in the new, and in an elegant hall drank the 



28 



RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 



hot, muddy water from the spring for which the place is 
famous. In the afternoon we rambled through the 
flower gardens and colonnades, visited the beautiful par- 
lors, library and reading rooms of the Cursaal, and after 
supper there spent the evening listening to familiar music 
by a splendid band. 




^%^ 


^^^¥MiLJ 


rPj^^^ 




^^T 


'^^L 


-■5;^^ 


^fe 


^^=^^S^^>t^ 




^la^w 


® 




A 


^^^K 


i^m 


Vw^^S^ 


Sv^r^i^ / 


^^L 


|r^ 


^^^ 


(Jj^^ I 




^=^^m 


%-£< 


^J^ 


6r"*"^ 


^•f^^'^ 



CHAPTER III. 

HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR : THE LUTHER AND GOETHE 
COUNTRY. 

T^O get to Heidelberg from Wiesbaden we passed by 
* rail through Mainz and Worms on the upper Rhine. 
I wanted to go to Strasburg to see again its ancient 
houses, the noble monument of Saxe descending into 
the open tomb, the wonderful clock in the cathedral 
transept, and the spire, long unfinished, which the Ger- 
mans during their short occupation have completed. 
But time forbade. 

At Mainz we drove through the town, saw the palace 
of the old electors facing on the present drill ground, 
and visited the cathedral which has been so often burned. 
Land must have been very valuable in these crowded 
old German towns before they were extended by removal 
of the walls. At Aachen the cathedral even now is 
touched by secular buildings, at Cologne it was so until 
a few years ago, and here at Mainz the cathedral is all 
but completely surrounded by houses built solidly up to 
it and above them towers its roof. The chief if not the 
only entrance is by a narrow court between two houses. 
There is therefore no satisfactory external view of the 
church, but within the effect is good. Here at Mainz 

29 



30 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Gutenberg about 1440-50 invented printing, issuing as 
the first book a Bible, and in a square near the Cathe- 
dral Thorwaldsen has a noble statue of him. For some 
reason we picture all great men as statuesque. We do 
not think of Gutenberg, Fust and Schoffer except as 
loving co-workers in a great invention, and yet we know 
that Fust went to law with Gutenberg and by legal 
process ejected him from control of the printing office. 

Further on at Worms Luther in 1521, with the safe- 
conduct granted by the Emperor Charles V., faced the 
imperial diet or congress and defended his doctrines, 
concluding, " Here I stand, I cannot act otherwise, God 
help me. Amen." The diet condemned him, but the 
safe-conduct held until his Saxon friends captured and 
immured him in the Wartburg. Worms in the Reforma- 
tion wars was burned more than once, and the episcopal 
palace, where the diet sat, has perished. Near its site 
stands now a large statue of the man who thus made the 
place famous. 

About noon our train arrived in narrow Heidelberg 
on the Neckar, and we took the street cars up its Haupt- 
strasse to the incline railway, and then this last to the 
castle 330 feet above the river. The most familiar pict- 
ure of the castle is a side view from the east, but this 
alone gives an inadequate idea of its extent. It is built 
around a square court, the main front facing northward 
towards the Neckar. The cliff is precipitous as seen 
from the promenade in front, and so too on the east, 
and on the south and west sides are abysmal moats. 
The schloss is on a projecting spur and since the days of 
artillery can be commanded from the higher portion of 
the mountain behind, but when built in the thirteenth 
century and for long afterwards was impregnable. En- 




THE COURT OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 



HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR. 3 1 

taring over the bridge and under the great Watch Tower 
at the south-west corner of the castle, we found ourselves 
in the court surrounded by palatial but ruined buildings 
overgrown with ivy. Near the entrance is a covered 
well, the handsome structure to the right is that of Elec- 
tor Otto Heinrich of the sixteenth century, and that be- 
fore us, constituting the front of the castle, was built by 
Elector Frederick V., who married Elizabeth, daughter 
of James I. of England. This Frederick, count pala- 
tine, was the Calvinist "Winter King" whose rule in 
Bohemia was cut short at White Hill near Prague in one 
of the early battles of the Thirty Years' War. This was 
in 1620, the year of the founding in America of Puritan 
New England. The war also cost Frederick his heredi- 
tary dominion, the Palatinate, a Rhenish electorate of 
which Bacharach had once been the capital, but of 
which Heidelberg was from the erection of this schloss. 
The castle was not much injured in this war, but Fred- 
erick was driven out of the country and his electoral 
right transferred to Bavaria, although at its conclusion 
a vote was given to the count palatine again. When the 
Protestant line died out in 1685 Louis XIV. claimed the 
principality, and the unprovoked harrying of the Palati- 
nate by Melac under the orders of the Grand Monarque 
is one of the great crimes of history. The French were 
compelled to withdraw after a few years, but they then 
burned or blew up all they could of this noble structure. 
Four towers still mark the corners. The south-eastern 
one had walls 21 feet thick, and although half of this 
was precipitated by the explosion bodily into the moat 
the rest remains standing now. Next towards the river 
comes the familiar Octagonal Tower over the arsenal, 
and its summit, reached by winding steps, commands a 



32 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

magnificent landscape. Otto Heinrich's three story 
building, of which it is a part, was in fine Renaissance 
style, and Frederick's four-story one adjoining, the castle 
front, is still in fair preservation. Below this last is the 
promenade with wide view of town and valley, and be- 
neath in a cellar is the Heidelberg Tun of 49,000 gallons 
capacity, on top of which is a platform formerly used for 
dancing. The Thick Tower at the north-west corner of 
the castle is connected with Frederick's main structure 
by his Elizabeth Building, and on the west side of the 
court face other substantial but less interesting ruins. 
The elector moved his residence to Mannheim in the 
last century and from the beginning of this the Palati- 
nate has been broken up and the electoral power 
extinguished. 

We took dinner at the restaurant Molkencur higher up 
the mountain, reached by the same incline railway, and 
we enjoyed between showers splendid views. Across the 
Neckar about where we now gazed I once had climbed 
a hill and looked at the ivied castle and the mountain 
upon which we now stood. Below was the swift river, 
and one of the usual ugly ram-like steamboats came 
along, keeping in the channel by taking up a chain from 
the bottom and passing it back over the boat. We 
had noticed this performance also in the Rhine by Co- 
blenz. To the west of the surrounding mountains was 
a vast plain dotted with fields, houses and woods, inter- 
sected by tree bordered roads and the silver Neckar, 
and bounded on the west by a sharp line followed by a 
hazy one, marking the Rhine bed. In returning to the 
road I had passed by the otherwise uninteresting Hirsch 
Inn where the students fight duels. 

On this present visit we descended to the town from 



HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR. 33 

dinner, and, although after bank hours, drew our first 
money on the letter of credit from Brown Brothers of 
New York. Without stopping for more than a few min- 
utes to see the buildings of the University, founded in 
1386 and the oldest in the limits of the empire, we took 
the evening train northwardly for Frankfort on the 
Main. The ride was in part after dark and as we 
could see nothing we were glad to get to our comfort- 
able hotel at Frankfort. 

The name of Frankfort, and the suburb called Sach- 
senhausen from a colony of conquered Saxons, take us 
back to the time of Charlemagne. Still a flourishing 
Prussian city, and in this century the capital of the Ger- 
man Confederation, Frankfort has been in the past, how- 
ever, of much greater importance as the place of election 
of the emperors. Charlemagne was made emperor at 
Rome when he was crowned, and so long as his descend- 
ants showed his qualities in any degree no special elec- 
tion was necessary. But after the weak successors of 
this Frank permanently divided his empire in 888, the 
imperial branch was soon superseded by Henry the 
Fowler of the very Saxon tribes whom Charlemagne had 
subdued and annexed a century and a half before. 
Otho I. after him in 962 re-established the empire on a 
firm German basis, besides reforming the corrupt court 
of Rome itself. German Kings, now to be Roman Em- 
perors, were always theoretically elective. The dukes 
of the four races making up the German kingdom, the 
Franks, Suabians, Saxons and Bavarians, held the four 
great offices of the imperial household, those of cup- 
bearer, chamberlain, marshal and seneschal, and the 
pastors of the three greatest sees beyond the Alps, — 
Mainz, Treves and Cologne, — were arch-chancellors of 
3 



34 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Germany, Gaul and Burgundy. With the growth of 
feudalism these officials, assuming to represent the Ger- 
man races and the German church, gradually came 
themselves to elect the German ruler. With the inde- 
pendence of the Franks and extinction of the Suabian 
duchy, Bohemia and Brandenburg were substituted for 
them by Charles IV's celebrated Golden Bull of 1356, 
and later changes brought in the count palatine. The 
number seven was for a long time preserved, but the 
electors were nine at last, Hanover being the latest addi- 
tion. The clerical members of the college suffered no 
change until Napoleon extinguished the electorates of 
Treves and Cologne when he made these principalities 
part of France. 

The Golden Bull likewise fixed Frankfort as the regu- 
lar meeting place of the electors and thus it continued 
until the empire ceased. We saw the dingy looking, 
many gabled Romer building where the election was 
held. There the emperor dined with the electors, and 
at its windows he showed himself to the enthusiastic 
crowd in the open Romerberg without, while the foun- 
tain in their midst ran wine. In his autobiography 
Goethe describes the election festivities as he saw them 
while a boy. In the imposing Frankfort cathedral under 
the central tower, itself like the high imperial crown of 
Charlemagne, the ruler was crowned by the electoral 
archbishop of Mainz. When the empire was a force as 
well as a title the proceedings at Frankfort were but the 
selection of the German king as emperor elect ; this 
made him king of the Romans, but he was not Roman 
Emperor until crowned by the Pope at Rome. From the 
accession of the Hapsburgs in 1273 the imperial power 
as such was small, and therefore few emperors took the 



HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR. 35 

trouble to be crowned at Rome. Gradually even the 
necessity for it was lost sight of, and we, like the Arch- 
dukes of Austria themselves, generally think of the old 
Empire as Austrian or German, and forget that it was a 
continuation of the Roman Empire. 

We took an interesting drive around the city in the 
morring. Old Frankfort has narrow, crooked streets, 
and one of them was Judengasse, the Jewish quarter, 
formerly locked up at night. There lived the first 
Rothschild, with his red shield sign. His banking saga- 
city placed a son at Paris, another at London, a third at 
Vienna, a fourth at St. Petersburg, and they have raised 
the family name to a high place in the world. The 
newer streets like the broad Zeil are handsome, and the 
wide zigzag promenades on the site of the old fortifica- 
tions are pleasant and much frequented. Near one 
angle we visited the Bethmann collection of art, the gem 
of which is Ariadne seated on a panther, the six years' 
labor of Dannecker of Stuttgart. The attendant drew 
aside a curtain and showed us the group on a revolving 
pedestal. It is in a recess lighted from above, and the 
red curtains give the woman a realistic flesh tint. In 
the old town we saw the high house in which Goethe 
was born and brought up, with its old-fashioned project- 
ing eaves. Not far off is the Goethe Platz and statue, 
and the statue of his friend Schiller is also near at hand, 
while a group of Gutenberg and his two assistants recalls 
that Frankfort too was an early seat of printing along 
with Mainz, Strasburg and Venice. 

There was an electric exposition near the railroad 
station which dazzled us the night of our arrival. 
At this was demonstrated the practicability of bring- 
ing an electric current from a distant waterfall to 



36 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

run the machinery. Without stopping, however, to see 
much of the exposition, we took the train before noon for 
a ten hours' journey to Leipzig. The Frankfort station 
and car sheds where we got on are the most extensive 
and imposing that we saw in Europe. This city of 
150,000 is growing rapidly and its central position makes 
it an important commercial point. 

On this trip to Leipzig we saw a good deal of German 
railroad travel. Their trains are possibly more comfort- 
able than the Belgian, but railroad arrangements are 
pretty much alike all over Europe. Some cars are 
better ventilated or cleaner than others, some have an 
automatic handle in each compartment for stopping the 
train in an emergency, and the railroad laws posted in 
the cars of different lines vary somewhat, but in a general 
way travelling is the same. The little cars — coaches or 
wagons as they call them — seemed odd to us. They are 
like small box cars without platforms, but the sides are 
broken by four or five doors, each with a window to its 
right and left, marking the four or five compartments 
running clear across the car, and making each car look 
as if it had so many coach bodies cemented together 
under one roof and on one floor. The compartments 
open on a board outside running the length of the car, 
used as a step, and on this the guard passes to collect 
fares while the train is in motion, for there is no passage 
way through as with us. Outside, each compartment is 
locked or at least closed Avith a large latch, opened at 
stations. Within, the compartment has two seats facing 
each other, each accommodating five persons. Half 
therefore ride backwards when all places are taken. 
There is no water aboard, and this, like the primitive 
toilet rooms, must be sought at the stations during the 



HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR. 37 

long stops. There are generally three classes of com- 
partments, differing only in fares and in the upholstery. 
All three, marked on the doors with Roman numbers, 
are frequently in the same train, perhaps two kinds in 
the same car, but some special trains, however, run only 
first or first and second class. I have even travelled 
fourth class in Prussia, and had to stand up in a regular 
box car and hold on to ropes. The usual class travelled 
is third, but on our trip we used second as more com- 
fortable and less crowded. The old saying is that only 
fools and Americans travel first class. One disagreeable 
feature of continental cars is that smoking is allowed in 
all except those marked otherwise, and even in non- 
smokers by consent. 

In our compartment from Frankfort to Weimar was a 
German with two little boys, and through his English, 
which was not as perfect as he imagined, and my German, 
which was even worse, we carried on a pleasant conver- 
sation. I was interested at the frankness of his views as 
to the restless young emperor. " The emperor," he said, 
" is a young man of some promise, but he, like all others, 
has to learn his trade. As it has to be at our expense, 
we sincerely hope that he will refrain from unnecessary 
mistakes." We found him and all Germans, however, 
devoted to the A-^aterland, the empire and its great 
founders. 

Further on we passed Eisenach, Erfurt and Weimar 
without having time to stop, but I could not but recall 
pleasant visits to these places and Wittenberg while I 
was studying at Leipzig. 

At Eisenach itself there is not a great deal of interest 
except the plain, long house Avhere Bach was born, and 
on an open place the house where Luther as a boy 



38 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

chorister at school lived with Frau Ursula Cotta. This 
house had stories projecting each a little over the one 
below, and the entry was quaintly carved. Luther's 
birthplace was Eisleben near Halle, and there while on 
a visit in 1546 he died. By Eisenach is the Wartburg, 
covering the summit of a hill, visible for miles in all 
directions, and itself commanding an equally extensive 
view. I reached it from Eisenach after a forty minutes' 
climb in the rain. This long rambling Romanesque 
castle, dating back to the eleventh century, is made up 
of a number of parts, the rooms near the entrance being 
those connected with Luther. His friend Frederick the 
Wise, elector of Saxony, had him brought here for 
safety after he had left Worms under the ban of the 
empire. In this castle, habited as a knight and known 
as Junker Georg, he worked almost a year on his trans- 
lation of the Bible, so important from a religious stand- 
point, and also as fixing the German language by thus 
giving it a universally used literary classic. His New 
Testament appeared in 1522. The whole castle is inter- 
esting and long before Luther contests of Minnesingers 
in the middle ages had made it famous. The first room 
usually shown is the rather sumptuous chapel where 
Luther preached, a sword of Bernhard of Weimar now 
hanging by the pulpit, and then I saw the plain room 
where he lived and worked. There were shown Luther's 
arm-chair, a foot-stool which was the vertebra of some 
large animal, his table, book-case, canopied bed, and 
portraits of his father and mother and of himself. In 
the wall is the hole marking where the inkstand struck 
which he threw at the Devil. He was better satisfied 
that he hit Satan than any one has been since. 

Further on towards Leipzig is Erfurt, where some 



HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR. 39 

years before he had retired in sadness from the wicked- 
ness of the world into an Augustinian monastery. Brother 
Martin's cell has been destroyed by fire. From there he 
was called by the elector to be professor of philosophy 
at the great Saxon university of Wittenberg. 

Wittenberg is now a little Prussian town of some 
14,000 people, midway between Leipzig and Berlin, but 
then it was the residence of the elector of Saxony, prob- 
ably the most powerful prince of the empire. Thence 
Luther visited Rome, where he saw much to shock him, 
and at Wittenberg in 15 17 he began the Reformation by 
opposing the Dominican Tetzel's sale of indulgences. 
Four years later was the open breach with Rome and 
excommunication. Then came Worms, the Wartburg, 
publication of the translated Bible, his marriage to 
Katharina Von Bora, and that life of piety and polemics 
which has changed the history of the world. 

Luther's house at Wittenberg is at the entrance of the 
Collegienstrasse, right by the dismantled fortifications, 
over which it can be plainly seen from the oak, outside 
the gate, which marks the spot where he burned Leo 
X's bull of excommunication. The house is in the court 
of the old Augustinian monastery and was given him as a 
residence by the elector. It is a gabled building with 
dormer windows, a tower in the middle of the front 
containing the entrance stairway. In Luther's room is 
still shown his black German stove, cast from the designs 
of his friend Cranach, shaped like a church and having 
on it the evangelists and undraped female figures 
representing music and other arts. His much Avorn table 
has a removable lid and within are pigeon holes. At the 
window is a curious tcte-a-tete seat, two chairs facing 
each other in one piece, and on the wall in a gilt frame 



40 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

is his many colored coat of arms, — a black cross over a 
red heart, with a rose on a blue ground. In the next 
room is his common cup of tin and wood, the wooden 
beads used by Katharina when a nun, and a large cut 
of Luther by Hans Luft, Wittenberg's first printer and 
the publisher of Luther's translation of the Bible. In an 
adjoining hall is a two story pulpit from which Luther 
lectured. 

Not far away is Melanchthon's house near the site of the 
old university, which in our century has been incor- 
porated with that of Halle. Over the door of a house 
in the Mittelstrasse I noticed the intensely sectarian 
inscription, — " Gottes Wort und Luther's Schrift des 
Babst und Calvini Gift," meaning that God's word and 
Luther's writings are poison to the pope and Calvin. At 
the termination of this street, just before getting to the 
market place with its quaint Rathhaus and stiff statues 
of Wittenberg's two great reformers, is the Stadtkirche, 
a double towered Gothic church where Luther often 
preached and in which he in 1552 administered the com- 
munion in both kinds, for the first time since the days 
of Huss. At the further end of the town is the castle 
and the handsome castle church to whose wooden doors 
Luther in 15 17 affixed his famous 95 Theses. The original 
doors were destroyed during a bombardment, but Frede- 
rick William IV. has substituted metal ones on which is 
the Latin text, thus made imperishable. AVithin, the 
church is plain and narrow and there Avas little to detain 
me except the Avooden slabs in the middle marking the 
graves of Luther and Melanchthon. The adjacent castle 
was the electoral residence down to 1542, but is now the 
barracks of the garrison. 

Wittenberg is not on the route to Leipzig from Frank- 
furt, but Weimar is, the home uf another great German. 



HEIDELBERG TO WEIMAR. 4 1 

The Grand Duke Charles Augustus invited Goethe there, 
gave him an official position, and in the large but plain 
yellow house also furnished him the poet lived the fifty- 
six years preceding his death in 1832. Goethe induced 
Schiller also to come here. They were fast friends, and 
even in death they are hardly divided, for their great 
oaken coffins, covered with offerings, lie side by side 
amid the ducal dead in the dark Princes' Vault in the 
cemetery. Goethe's house was occupied by a grandson 
of his at the time of my visit and so was not shown, but 
I went over Schiller's house, climbing up the narrow 
stairs to his working rooms on the third floor. Amongst 
other relics were his table and single bed and several 
portraits. Wieland also lived at Weimar and near his 
•plain little house is Rietschel's fine group of Goethe 
handing a wreath to Schiller. 

Schiller was a lovable character and a brilliant man, 
but Goethe and Luther I think the greatest of Germans. 
Luther was a man essentially of one idea and carried it 
through despite pope and emperor. Goethe had not the 
same vigor, but was a broader, more fully rounded 
character. Luther created his age, while Goethe was 
the crown of his. 

Rachel, however, had not reminiscences of an earlier 
visit to help her, and after the shades of night cut off the 
views and confined us to looking at some bold girls who 
were in our compartment we became headachy and 
tired out. There was no water and the yearnings for 
supper too made the last hours of this long ride very 
uncomfortable. Even the familiar names of stations 
near Leipzig did not take the place of a good meal, the 
more especially as when we did come in sight of the 
lights of Leipzig we seemed to spend a half hour going 
all around the citv before reachintr the station. 




CHAPTER IV. 

LEIPZIG : ITS UNIVERSITY AND ITS BATTLE FIELDS. 

A BOUT 9 P.M. our train rolled into the station at 
^*- Leipzig, and, tired out with travel, we took a car- 
riage for Miiller's Hotel. We rattled over the same 
cobble stones that had ten years before tried alike my 
patience and my shoes, and were greeted at the hotel 
side door by the same genial Herr whose perpetual white 
shirt and full dress had won my heart in auld lang syne. 

A nice room on the third floor and good meals, all at 
six marks a day for each of us, were soon arranged for, 
and we retired to sleep, I to dream that I was a student 
of philosophy here again, at No. 5 Schletter Strasse, 
dritte treppe. 

The next day we began with a visit to the post office, 
where we received the first letter from home written 
after our departure. The post office is at the east end 
of the old city, facing on the Augustus Platz, a large 
open place bounded r.orth by the handsome new theatre, 
east by the post office and other buildings, south by the 
Museum, and west by the main University buildings. 
Here the street cars centre, and after visiting the Museum 
we took rides on them about the city, which I found 
larger and much improved. 

42 



LEIPZIG. 43 

When I was at the University this Museum was my 
first real introduction to art, and I have always looked 
back to it with affection. Returning now after ten years 
it seemed smaller, perhaps by contrast, although in fact 
enlarged since 1880 ; but the familiar pictures beamed a 
welcome back again, and I found the collections as 
worthy of admiration as formerly. The gem of all to 
me is the despondent Napoleon at Fontainebleau, by 
Delaroche, pictured as thinking of his abdication ; but 
paintings by Calame and others, the crayon landscapes 
by Preller of the Wanderings of Ulysses, of which 
the completed paintings are at Weimar, Thorwaldsen's 
marble Ganymede, and many other works also well 
repay study. William Sohn's painting, The Consulta- 
tion, (a mother and daughter with a lawyer,) detained 
me long, because of the striking resemblance of the kind 
attorney to my father, who had died in the interval 
between my two visits abroad. 

Leipzig was originally an irregular square, about half 
a mile long on each side. It was bounded west by the 
small Pleisse River into which the Parthe empties from 
the east a little north of the old city, and into which 
flowed the Elster River from the west at the north-west 
corner of the fortifications. These walls were dismantled 
after the fall of Napoleon and their site is occupied by 
beautiful promenades and drives all around the old city, 
frequently ornamented with statues of distinguished Ger- 
mans, and south of the Museum the walks expand into a 
valuable botanical garden. Within the old medieval 
city four or five irregular streets run north and south, 
while but two — Grimmaische Strasse and the Briihl — run 
east and west. But there is also a network of passages 
or arcades through the blocks from street to street, many 



44 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

with shops or booths at the sides. In the centre of the 
city is the city hall — Rathhaus — facing on the Markt 
Platz in front and the Naschmarkt in the rear. The 
Rathhaus was built in 1556 and like the other high an- 
tiquated buildings about the square is black with age, in 
winter its towers and peaks jutting picturesquely up out 
of the^now on the roof. I instinctively went to where the 
Fleischergasse comes into the Markt to see if Del Vec- 
chio's picture store was still there, before which I used to 
stand so much and admire the photographs and other 
pictures exhibited in the window. The store still exists. 
I remember one time a picture there of a baby show with 
the inscription in English, " We come all the way from 
Chicago," and the staid Germans crowded the sidewalks 
and gazed solemnly at the collection of laughing or cry- 
ing baby faces. Near the Markt is Auerbach's Keller, 
where you now get a good meal of oysters, wine, etc., but 
no bier at all, and where formerly Mephistopheles induced 
Faust to partake of a more remarkable feast, drawing 
wine and fire from the tables. The legend is given in the 
old mural paintings of the place, and Goethe's signature, 
a lock of his hair and other mementos are also exhibited. 
In the Markt I found that they had erected in 1888 a fine 
war monument. The main figure is Germania, and below 
are William I. and equestrian statues of Frederick Wil- 
liam, King Albert of Saxony, Von Moltke and Bismarck. 
This old part of Leipzig, with quaint tiled houses over- 
hanging the narrow crooked streets, the big horses with 
pointed collars, drawing high wagons, the serious but 
good-natured people, the huge pumps, the old stores, the 
Briihl with its fur shops, the women driving little wagons 
drawn by strong dogs, the numerous children, the ped- 
dlers' cries, the newsgirls,— all make up an interesting pic- 



LEIPZIG. 45 

ture familiar and dear to one who has lived in the city. 
The three Leipzig fairs are not kept up as they were 
before the time of railroads, yet on these occasions still 
every platz is filled with booths displaying goods of all 
kinds, and the Polish Jews in the Briihl, with beards, long 
coats and high hats, realized my idea of Shylock. At 
the south-west corner of the promenades is the old fort- 
ress, the Pleissenburg, now a garrison. In the low court 
back of it the soldiers drill, and the instruction is inces- 
sant and thorough. In this building Luther and Dr. Eck 
had their famous disputation. Not far from it is the 
Thomas Kirche, plain outside, like most other Leipzig 
Protestant churches, while inside it is furnished beauti- 
fully. Bach was organist at the Thomas Schule near by 
for over a quarter of a century previous to his death in 

1750- 

The original city is surrounded by five new quarters, 

each as large as old Leipzig. These suburbs are built of 
brick and plaster, in the handsome, if monotonous. Re- 
naissance style, have flowers in the windows or on the 
porches, and stretch for great distances in regular squares, 
along numerous well paved streets. Off to the south- 
west is the new Gewandhaus, where the celebrated con- 
certs are given. Mendelssohn conducted them in the 
second third of this century, but their origin antedates 
him almost a hundred years. Not far off is the celebrated 
Conservatory of Music, and near by is the block given up 
to the Imperial Supreme Court buildings, now in course 
of erection. Although an empire, Germany is made up of 
a number of semi-independent and jealous states, so that 
centralization is not perfect. To this it is due that the Su- 
preme Court sits at Leipzig and not at Berlin. As a student 
I saw its opening October i, 1879, under PresidentSimson, 



4.6 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

in a building facing the park back of the new theatre, 
and I attended several of its rather prosy succeeding ses- 
sions. In the newer parts of the city are the great print- 
ing houses. Although a city of but two hundred and 
fifty thousand, Leipzig has the unquestioned supremacy 
in all Germany of the printing trade. The Tauchnitz 
edition of English and American authors is published 
here and much of the music on American pianos and 
organs comes from Leipzig. All the great German 
publishing houses have headquarters here. 

Besides the city promenades Leipzig has to the north- 
west the large Rosenthal for drives and walks, well 
wooded and much frequented. This and other pleasant 
parks of meadow, water and woodland, are all judiciously 
arranged, and in spring they offer extensive and inviting 
walks, of which we students regularly availed ourselves. 
Further out in every direction are historic villages con- 
nected with the city by excellent roads lined with lindens 
or poplars, and we used to enjoy rambles also through 
wide meadows or along the banks of the interminable 
network of creeks that they dignify with the name of 
rivers. The many pretty girls remind one of Ovid's 
allusion to the number in Rome — Qicot caelum Stellas, tot 
habet tua Roma piiellas. There seem to be no end of 
children, and all live in the streets. Girls in the spring 
are absorbed in jumping rope and playing with little hol- 
low rubber balls, the boys in whipping tops, — something 
I had only read of before, — and all the year round the 
children have street games of some kind, many unknown 
to us Americans. 

We went to see Frau Paetzel, in whose flat I had lived 
eleven years before, for university students have no 
dormitories. We entered the common hall, for it was 



LEIPZIG. 47 

not necessary to ring at the street door in the daytime, 
and ascended the common stairway to the desired floor, 
the third. Die gnadige Frau, as I used to call her, an- 
swered the bell in person, immediately recognized me 
and gave us a hearty welcome. As it was all in German, 
Rachel was much embarrassed, for her stock in trade was 
limited to Ja, Nein and my invariable inquiry at hotels, 
Alles eingeschlossen ? Frau Paetzel in her frank way 
soon intimated that my own German had deteriorated 
since I left her influence. Still, our conversing at all 
showed I was not as bad off as once when I called on 
my friend Schmidt in Leipzig and asked the girl who 
came, " Wohnt Herr Schmidt da ? " I had to repeat 
the question several times, and at last the maid laughed, 
shook her head, and said, '' I spik not English." On 
our present visit to my old landlady the idea seized me 
of using the universal language of music, and I asked 
Rachel to play " Ripples of the Alabama " and other 
familiar airs. But I suspect that the instrument had not 
been tuned since little Martha had worried me with her 
practicing years ago, and I am not positive how far the 
music helped. For Rachel's sake — principally — I de- 
clined a pressing invitation to take dinner with the 
family and all the neighbors and after a glass of wine 
with the Frau and Herr we left. 

My beautiful room near the landing looked natural 
with its blue walls, tall white porcelain stove in the cor- 
ner, windows with lace curtains, and the single bed 
whose coverings fit so well that when I got underneath 
they regularly became all untucked. German bedclothes 
consist mainly of a feather mattress, which lies on top 
of one instead of underneath. In the stove I used to 
kindle a little fire and after that began to burn I would 



48 RAMBLES JN HISTORIC LANDS. 

shut it up, smoke and all, and it radiated heat for hours. 
I had a good, plain lamp, but the " German " student's 
lamp so common at home does not seem to be much 
known in Germany. 

This room was beautifully furnished and cost, attend- 
ance included, eighteen marks a month. Every morning 
before I got up a girl brought in my breakfast of bread, 
butter, soft boiled egg and coffee, for which I paid 
seven and a half marks extra. Dinner I took at a neigh- 
boring restaurant and at night a roll and glass of milk 
at a milch-halle around the corner finished up my meals. 
Bier I generally took at dinner only, but occasionally 
Avent of an evening with German friends to a garden, 
and like them spent an hour over a dull newspaper and a 
25 pfennig glass of the favorite Bairisch bier. When 
men drink together they say " Prosit," a Latin health, 
and a stranger entering at meal time would say, " Mahl- 
zeit," an abbreviation of a wish for a pleasant meal. I 
noticed less of this on my second visit. I remember 
that on the wall at my restaurant was a motto, " Even 
Dr. Luther says water does no good." But Dr. Luther 
spoke of baptism, and this wit applied the quotation as 
pointing to bier. 

Whenever we called a waiter in Germany who was 
busy he would say, " Kommen gleich," " Coming imme- 
diately," and whenever we asked after a dish that had 
been ordered some time we learned that it too was 
" Kommen gleich." That expression stuck in Rachel's 
m.emory, and now we use it of every person or thing that 
moves slowly. 

In the summer of 1879 as the winner at Princeton Col- 
lege of the John C. Green Mental Science fellowship, 
bestowed by the hand of venerable James McCosh, I 



LEIPZIG. 49 

came to Leipzig to continue the study of philosophy and 
take a course in Roman law. I spent some months per- 
fecting myself in German under the tuition of a Dr. 
Asher, to whom his friend Schopenhauer had bequeathed 
his spectacles, — and Dr. Asher certainly looked at every- 
thing through pessimistic glasses. I Avas aided about as 
much by attending the Nikolai Kirche and listening to a 
distinct but tautological preacher. On October i6th I 
matriculated. This consisted in going to five different 
rooms, dealing with six persons, writing my name and 
address on cards and in big books, and then in hearing 
a speech from the rector, Herr Dr. Stobbe, and shaking 
hands with him. Forty of us entered on that day and 
of these seventeen wore glasses, and I found the same 
proportion of eyeglasses to hold all through the course. 

The lecture rooms I attended were all in the dingy 
court back of the Augusteum, which fronts on the Au- 
gustus Platz opposite the post office. Many of the scien- 
tific departments, however, are in the suburbs of the 
city. The University Library of 350,000 volumes I find 
has now been transferred from its old dark quarters to a 
noble building near the new Supreme Court. I hope it 
is better managed. In my time they did not, as at Prince- 
ton, permit access to the shelves, but I had on one day 
to give a list to men at a counter of what I wanted, and 
come back the next to find out if the books were in, and 
the custodians, to my own knowledge, made frequent 
mistakes. 

In the lecture rooms the young men selected their own 
seats and put cards upon them. The long benches and 
desks were plain and each man provided his own pen 
and bottle of ink. The professor entered twelve minutes 
after the stroke of the hour and lectured standing, read- 
4 



50 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

ing from his notes or not, according to his individual 
preference. The students have no recitations and take 
down as much or little of the lecture as they choose, fold- 
ing a page almost in the middle to give margin for their 
notes. The French sarcasm that the German professors 
have forgotten the invention of printing has much point. 
A book and recitations are far better than oral lectures. 
The lecturer leaves as near after the stroke of the hour 
as he can finish a sentence and then always receives lib- 
eral applause from stamping feet. The students eat and 
smoke freely in the room before and after the lecture, 
but during its delivery are very quiet and attentive. 

In my first semester or term I heard Wundt on the 
history of philosophy, Fricker on applied ethics and 
Hermann on the philosophy of history. Wundt was one 
of their famous men and had been the magnet that drew 
me to Leipzig. He was a man under fifty, with short, 
black whiskers, wore glasses, and, while no doubt per- 
fectly at home on the rostrum, nervously wriggled about 
while lecturing. He put everything very clearly, how- 
ever, and his large room was always packed with auditors. 
His fame rests chiefly on studies in physiological psy- 
chology, so called, the border land between mind and 
brain, but I was not fortunate enough to hear him 
directly on this subject. King Albert of Saxony was in 
Leipzig at some exhibition and I saw him when one day 
he attended Wundt's lecture. He listened closely. 
Wundt bowed when he finished and the boys respectfully 
stood up as the king went out. Albert seemed to be a 
kind faced man and assumed no state beyond having 
one soldier as a guard and sitting off to himself in a 
red cushioned chair placed on a strip of carpet. 

The second semester I heard Wundt four afternoons a 



LEIPZIG. 5 1 

week on psychology proper. Along with these lectures 
I read Lotze's famous and interesting but somewhat ex- 
travagant Mikrokosmos, — regarded as conservative in 
Germany, — Kant's great Kritik, Fisher's History of Phi- 
losophy, besides much of Goethe and Schiller and other 
works more in the line of literature. In this semester I 
heard also the celebrated Windscheid lecture every morn- 
ing on the Institutes of Justinian. Windscheid was an 
old man, thin but erect, with light gray beard on the 
lower part of his face. He spoke distinctly when quoting 
Latin but at other times often mouthed his words, par- 
ticularly when he would shrug his shoulders and express 
disagreement with an author, and also when he had occa- 
sion, which was often, to characterize anything as " aus- 
serordentlich," — extraordinary. He quoted the corpus 
juris with great facility. He gave each student at the 
beginning a printed analysis of the course, with references 
to authorities. For clearness I have hardly seen his 
equal. He proceeded slowly, and yet, by avoiding much 
detail, covered a great deal of ground in a short time. 
The hour was always up before I knew it, such was the 
fascination the man and the subject exercised over me. 
Along with these lectures I read Scheurl's admirable 
book on the Institutiones Justlniani, -and used Heuman's 
lexicon to the corpus juris^ giving citations and biograph- 
ical and historical matter of great value. The Germans, 
like the Greeks in their day, think everything not of their 
own country worthless, although they do give Americans 
credit for making greater practical use of many German 
inventions. So that it was with some surprise that I 
heard Windscheid speak of Gibbon's Decline and Fall 
of the Roman Empire as an extraordinary and unequalled 
work. Wundt is remarkably well read and I have also 



52 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

heard him refer to Mill, Spencer and Bain as valuable 
authorities. Hermann also referred to a book by Flint 
of Edinburgh as one of the best on the philosophy of 
history. A great many English and Americans now go 
to the German universities and possibly these institutions 
are themselves thus somewhat liberalized. In fact the 
authorities encourage American students to come, and 
sometimes aid them in completing the course in two in- 
stead of three years. As I had no aim, however, beyond 
general education, I remained but one year, the life of 
the Princeton fellowship. While in Leipzig I heard 
several of the other university celebrities also. I saw 
Hankel perform a number of simple electric experiments 
to the noisy delight of his class, heard Luthardt, the great 
and conservative Lutheran theologian, saw the venerable 
Delitsch lecture on Isaiah, and heard Curtius on Plato, 
when he amusingly scored the scholars who are more 
Platonist than Plato himself and have discovered that 
but one dialogue or two are genuine. On other occasions 
I heard also the judicious Heinze on Plato, and old 
Drobisch on Logic. Drobisch did not use glasses and 
spoke faintly but distinctly. Many of those professors 
have died in the few years' interval since I was a student, 
but even in scholastic Germany some of them have not 
been since surpassed, and perhaps not even equalled. 

The only recitation is on the public final examinations 
for degree. These are strict. When I left they gave 
me but a certificate of attendance, as I had not completed 
the course. An interesting and amusing feature of stu- 
dent life is what they call " Privatissime," — when a pro- 
fessor receives the students at his room, perhaps on the 
top floor of a building, or they meet at some other place, 
and informally discuss the study. The students and 



LEIPZIG. 53 

professor sit about a table and drink bier, while the boys 
quiz their teacher. The several professors I met from 
time to time struck me very pleasantly. They were all 
cordial and communicative, talking without reserve. The 
students have societies of all sorts, some for essays and 
debate, many for musical purposes. Different societies 
wear differently colored caps, but all make a feature of 
drinking bier. It is very common to see students with 
great cuts across the face from their secret sword duels 
in the depths of the Rosenthal or elsewhere, although 
there is much less of this than formerly. They are very 
proud of these scars. 

Leipzig has had many famous citizens, such as Leib- 
nitz and Wagner, both of whom were born here, Goethe, 
Schiller, Bach, Schumann, Gellert and others, as the 
many memorial tablets indicate. Goethe was a student 
and his quarters are still shown. Schiller lived and 
wrote for a while in a vine covered cottage at Gohlis in 
the environs. 

Leipzig's plains in past times have been the site of at 
least three famous battles, — Breitenfeld and Liitzen in 
the Thirty Years' War, and of Napoleon's defeat in 1813, 
and I visited them all. 

Breitenfeld is an estate and village a few miles north 
of Leipzig. One day in harvest time in July 1880 I 
walked to the battle field alone, a friend going but a 
little way and then turning back from fear of rain. The 
country was flat, and the grain, almost ripe, waved on 
every hand. Starting at two I was at the simple monu- 
ment, a stone cube surrounded by railing amid some 
pines, about half past three. South-east was Wieder- 
itsch, the centre of Tilly's line in 1631, and north-east 
were the spires of several little villages, where the first 



54 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

engagement took place. There Pappenheim's cavalry 
was put to flight and by this Gustavus was enabled to 
turn here at Breitenfeld Tilly's left wing and rout his 
army. Leipzig's towers are in full sight and between 
me and the city swept around a black cloud with its 
rain and lightning. 

Coming back I walked with an old peasant until I 
struck the high pike, shaded with trees, at Lindenthal. 
He said Breitenfeld was the biggest estate in the neigh- 
borhood. He thought I was a native, much to m^/ 
satisfaction. Amongst other rural , scenes I saw people 
binding sheaves. They twist a straw rope, lay the grain 
in it, and tie, using a stick to help. Men cut the grain 
with a cradle-scythe or a vehicle with windmill arms such 
as I have seen in New Jersey, and the women seem to 
do much of the binding. This reminds me that a coun- 
try girl a few days later near Liitzen called out to me to 
know if I did not want to marry ? I respectfully declined. 

I also visited with friends the even more important 
field of Liitzen. Leipzig is in the north-west corner of 
Saxony, and on this excursion I saw the Prussian bound- 
ary marked by a straight clearing of probably fifty feet 
wide in which are heaps of stones at regular intervals. 
A party of vis one Saturday took the train at 9:55 a.m. 
from Leipzig to Markranstadt, arriving at 10:18. We 
walked thence an hour and a half along the high road, 
watching the peasants cut and bind the ripe grain, and 
then came to the battle field of Liitzen. Here in 1632, 
after his conquest of Germany, complete until checked 
near Nuremberg by Wallenstein, Gustavus Adolphus met 
this general for the first time in an open battle field. 
Wallenstein had been recalled from his proud retirement 
and put in command as a matter of necessity by his im- 



LEIPZIG. 5 5 

perial master. Wallenstein had the larger army, drawn 
up on the west of the road, occupying, however, the 
opposite ditch also with outposts. He had a few can- 
non before his centre of infantry, and his right wing was 
cavalry. One infantry square was towards Liitzen and 
he had a strong battery there on the hill. His weak 
cavalry left wing was where the Flossgraben intersects 
the road. This ditch curved around towards Liitzen 
behind Gustavus. Gustavus with twenty thousand men, 
of whom ten thousand were cavalry, occupied the field 
on the other side of the road. His Swedes were similarly 
arranged, their centre being twelve sections of infantry 
under Kniphausen, and his wings of cavalry with a 
sprinkling of foot. Their largest array of cannon was 
by Liitzen, but the rest of their one hundred pieces were 
divided evenly. Gustavus Adolphus commanded his 
right wing and soon broke the enemy's left and went to 
lead his own yielding left, commanded by Bernhard, 
while the two centres were fighting with varying fortunes. 
He fell, but exactly where is unknown. His death, 
however, inspired his army anew and Wallenstein was 
defeated everywhere. The re-inforcements under Pap- 
penheim were also defeated and that general mortally 
wounded. Gustavus' body was discovered at last to the 
east of the road, under a heap of dead, naked and 
mutilated from the hoofs of cavalry charge and counter- 
charge. A Gothic cast-iron canopy near a boulder now 
marks where it was found, but it was taken finally to 
Stockholm for interment. Pappenheim died in the 
Pleissenburg at Leipzig. Wallenstein was assassinated 
not long afterwards by some of his attendants, while 
he was himself plotting treason with the Protestants. 
Liitzen was like the Goetterdaemmerung. 



56 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Napoleon almost two centuries later also won a battle 
near Liitzen, but this, with the victories of Dresden and 
Bautzen, is forgotten in the greater interest of the Battle 
of the Nations at Leipzig a few days later. 

Leipzig itself has many monuments commemorative 
of this great battle of October 16-19, 1813, when Na- 
poleon met his first great defeat, a struggle which was 
the turning-point in his career. He had made the dis- 
astrous retreat from Russia, re-organized his army, and 
was in Saxony to crush the rising of the German nation 
in this their war of independence. In three great battles 
he conquered, but Austria turned against him and even 
Saxony was wavering. The allies were endeavoring to 
surround him, and he characteristically marched to en- 
counter their main body. 

Two miles south-east of the city from a little knoll he 
directed during the first day his one hundred and fifty 
thousand men, their centre being at Probstheida, almost 
a mile further from Leipzig, as they fought double that 
number of allied Prussians, Austrians and Russians. 
Where he stood the Germans have now erected a monu- 
ment, " Napoleonstein," a short stone shaft surmounted 
by his cocked hat and field glass in bronze. The inscrip- 
tion says, " Here Napoleon I. watched the fighting in 
the Battle of the Nations." The French, not successful 
in routing the forces opposed to them, at last retired 
into the city and at 11 a.m. on October 19 a Prussian 
battalion stormed the eastern gate. Napoleon, fearing 
that his rear might be covered by another allied army 
approaching from the north, soon afterwards retreated 
towards the west. The main army passed over the Elster 
bridge at the north-west corner of the old Avails, and then 
by some fatal mistake the stone bridge was prematurely 



LEIPZIG. 57 

blown up. Many French were drowned trying to swim 
the swollen stream, and 25,000 were captured on the 
Leipzig side. Among the drowned was the gallant 
Pole Poniatowski, to whom a monument has been erected 
where he perished. The total loss of life in this great 
battle is said to have been 100,000. 

Among the many German holidays is Sedan day, Sep- 
tember 2d, and I attended its celebration in 1879 ^^ 
the battle field of Leipzig. I stood at the Napoleonstein 
and from there viewed the immense assembly, heard the 
Wacht am Rhein from thousands of German throats, and 
listened to patriotic speeches telling how, since Na- 
poleon III. surrendered at Sedan and their Kaiser had 
been crowned at Versailles, the Rhine, touched by 
France at no point, is now the German Rhine in a truer 
and grander sense than was dreamed possible in the 
life of Napoleon I. As I returned to town the Napo- 
leonstein was hid from view by the smoke of the bonfire 
and as I looked back in the moonshine the windmill at 
Probstheida flung its arms peacefully around where once 
had been the thickest of the great battle for German 
freedom. 




CHAPTER V. 

DRESDEN : ITS COLLECTIONS AND HISTORY. 

r\RESDEN is famous for its china and its picture 
^-^ gallery, but it is important in many other respects 
too. It is an old-fashioned town on the left bank of the 
Elbe, here crossed by several bridges to the new city, 
and, while in general like Leipzig, has even handsomer 
suburbs. Its population is 250,000, including a large 
English and American colony. Along the river below 
the old bridge are the court theatre and handsome 
carved stone picture gallery about an open square, and 
above the bridge is the Briihl terrace, much frequented 
for river views. 

The centre of interest is the picture gallery, one of the 
four greatest of the world, the others being the Pitti and 
Uffizi at Florence, and the Louvre at Paris. The 
Vatican, Munich and London collections are very fine 
but hardly rival the four just named. 

We spent day after day at the Dresden galleries, 
taking dinner at a restaurant near by on the river bank 
and going back again for the rest of the time. Here at 
Dresden I had made some study of art and jDossibly will 
find occasion in connection with Florence, the home of 
painting, sculpture and architecture, to give a short 

58 



DRESDEN. 59 

sketch of the subject. I will content myself now with 
describing some of the pictures that impressed us most 
in Dresden. 

The building is a handsome three story Renaissance 
structure built by Semper in this century. Semper is 
considered the finest German architect of recent times 
and built also the court theatre. The Museum has, how- 
ever, too monotonous a fagade, and towers or a high 
dome would improve it. Adjoining are the Zwinger 
colonnades and pavilions, in an over ornamented Renais- 
sance style called Rococo from its curves and shell orna- 
mentation. The Zwinger encloses pleasant gardens. 
The collection dates mainly from Augustus III., whose 
splendid court in the eighteenth century almost equalled 
that of Versailles. • 

On the ground floor are sculptures, on the second the 
main collection of pictures, and on the third good 
modern paintings, and of the thousands of pictures some 
cannot be forgotten. The gem of all is the Sistine 
Madonna of Raphael, named from the convent at Pia- 
cenza, for which it was painted. The shrinking beauty 
of the young, girlish mother, her large soft eyes, which 
seem to avoid your gaze, the bright sharp eyes and firm 
mouth of the Child, the clouds of angel heads on which 
she stands as the curtains in the painting are withdrawn, 
the chubby cherubs below with red and green wings, and 
Saints Sixtus and Barbara at the sides, make up the most 
bewitching production of all human art. It stands in a 
corner room, well lighted, and the velvet seats are al- 
ways filled with reverent spectators, who instinctively talk 
in whispers and enter and leave on tip-toe. A corre- 
sponding room at the other end of the building is 
occupied by what is now said to be a copy and not the 



6o RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

original of Holbein's fine Madonna, standing with the 
Child under a canopy, but of a sturdy German type and 
in the midst of a German family. All between are large 
rooms hung with paintings and opening on one side into 
others not so large containing mainly the smaller French, 
Dutch and Flemish pictures. Correggio's Holy Night, 
representing the Mother and the Magi gazing on the 
Child from whom comes the light which shows them to 
us, is in a room near the Sistine Madonna, but has 
now become rather indistinct. Not far off is Battoni's 
Magdalene lying beside a skull and intently reading, 
a beautiful production, whether copy, as now set up, or 
an original, and Correggio's Magdalene, more exposed, 
but much like the other. Carlo Dolce's St. Cecilia lis- 
tening to the heavenly choir is a picture of beauty 
and rapture, and Guido Reni's Ecce Homo, of which 
there are several copies, prays almost audibly in the 
gathering darkness. In one of the cabinets is Titian's 
Tribute Money, where the contrast is masterly of the 
open-faced but Jewish Christ and the sharp, brown 
Rabbi handing him the penny. Very different is his 
proud and voluptuous nude Venus, said to be a copy, 
in which Cupid is crowning her and a young man with 
his back turned is reading aloud. Palma Vecchio is 
represented by his Three Graces and by recumbent 
Venus taking Cupid's arrow. There is much there, 
too, of Paul Veronese, and the Sleeping Venus of Gior- 
gione has one of the most beautiful faces and figures 
possible. Caravaggio has Card Players, and Card 
Sharpers with an accomplice behind the victim reveal- 
ing his hand. Rubens with Snyders paints a vigorous 
Boar Hunt, and alone Neptune Stilling the Tempest, 
Love's Garden and the Judgment of Paris, but the 



DRESDEN. 6l 

women of the last two are fat and clumsy, and his 
Diana returning from the chase is much more attrac- 
tive. The beautiful, recumbent Danae in the Shower 
of Gold, haughty Charles I., and Children of Charles 
I., are said to be copies and not original Van Dycks, but 
they are very good, and there are many fine animal 
scenes by Jordaens, Snyders and Teniers. Of the Dutch 
school Rembrandt has a number of fine pictures, one 
being a portrait of an Old Man, and another himself 
laughing with glass in hand and wife Saskia on his 
knee, sometimes called Wine, Woman and Song. Her 
back is towards us but she turns her face. There also 
are many pictures of the later Dutch school, — house 
interiors, still life, hunts, landscapes and curious studies 
of candle-light seen through fingers. In the same room 
with his Madonna are Holbein's picture of the gold- 
smith Mortet and a small but careful Crucifixion by 
Diirer. The two Cranachs are represented by a num- 
ber of their rather stiff pictures, and there are many 
splendid views — generally not large — by Claude Lor- 
raine. Macaulay's continuous praise of Claude is just. 
Everything by him is distinct without being sharp, his 
water the green and white of nature, his clouds perfect, 
and the pictures in all respects gracefully and carefully 
filled. Nicolas Poussin, too, has a number of paintings 
and there are courtly rural scenes by Watteau. Among 
the original pencil drawings were many by Raphael, 
Leonardo, Rubens and others, all showing the marvel- 
lous effect of a few strokes by a master hand, those by 
Leonardo and Raphael being particularly soft. 

Among the modern paintings are Angelica Kaufman's 
pure Vestal Virgin, Hiibner's girl listening to boy 
piping (the Golden Age), Munkacsy's large and realis- 



62 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

tic Crucifixion, Vautier's "Wedding Dance, Hoff' s touch- 
ing picture of Bad News, — a letter read to old people, 
Dispute of Eck and Luther, and Hofman's Adulteress 
before Jesus. In this last the beautiful penitent has 
sunk on her knees, and, as a rabbi shows the book of 
the law to the gentle Saviour, an old woman can hardly 
be kept from striking while a young mother hurries her 
child away from so infamous a presence. On the ground 
floor, besides the casts, which extend over into the 
Zwinger, is an attractive collection of miniatures and 
crayons, and among them is Liotard's well known 
Chocolate Girl and his Beautiful Lyonnaise. 

Near the Museum is the court Catholic church, for, 
while the established church is Protestant, the royal 
family is Catholic. There on Sunday we heard superb 
music, vocal and instrumental, to which people crowded 
in, many, however, leaving the services immediately after- 
wards, as I used to notice was also common at Leipzig. 
The voices were those of little boys, who, when not sing- 
ing, could not help even in the public choir loft laughing 
and playing like other children. On a previous visit I 
saw King Albert and Queen Carola in a balcony above 
the altar and without attendants. This and others near 
look like stage boxes Avith movable glass fronts, and com- 
municate by a bridge with a barnlike palace adjacent. 
Their majesties kneeled most of the time and on that 
cold day blew their noses freely like us common mortals. 
The king Avas gray and had a subdued and anxious face. 
Both were plainly dressed, he in a military uniform, she 
in black Avith gray hat and short veil. When they rose 
to leave he stood aside until she went out, and then fol- 
lowed her. The church is oval and the nave projects 
high above the passage around it, which at the sides 



DRESDEN, 63 

widens into aisles, where sit the non-Catholics and the 
overflow of the congregation in the nave. Over the altar 
is a dim Ascension by Raphael Mengs, but it is not now 
highly regarded. Externally, this church, so prominent 
an object in Dresden views, is Baroque, — a degraded 
Renaissance style of the last part of the eighteenth cen- 
tury. It has statues on all the parapets and the tower or 
steeple, like many others in Germany, culminates in 
something like an inverted turnip. Under this church 
are the royal tombs. 

In the palace is what is called the Green Vault, from 
the color of the walls of one room, containing the most 
valuable collection of jewelry, crystal, bronzes, ivory 
carving and stones in the Avorld. In the first room after 
the entry, where one pays a mark for a ticket, are many 
bronzes, principally of groups, such as the Rape of the 
Sabines, in the next a Dutch frigate with full spread 
sails, all of ivory and about one and one half feet high, 
and a Fall of the Angels, much smaller, but remarkable 
because cut out of one piece, and in another room is 
Dinglinger's Court of Aurungzebe, made of one hundred 
and fifty-two movable gold and ivory figures of men and 
beasts. In one room was a great deal of rock crystal, in 
others clocks, one with fine chimes, the Polish regalia, 
and priceless gems and jewels. Among these was the 
largest onyx known, an oval disk seven inches long, of 
the same red-blue color as the favorite Bairisch bier, also 
the one green diamond of the world, 5-g- ounces in weight, 
and a lady's bow of six hundred and sixty-two dia- 
monds. The living rooms of the palace I did not see, 
but they are very handsome. A busy street passes under 
the building at one place, and the king thus dwells very 
close to the life of his people. 



64 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Further on in the Neumarkt, opposite the Hotel Bis- 
marck, where we staid, is a handsome building called 
the Museum Johanneum, devoted to historical and porce- 
lain collections. In one or more of the rooms armor 
was fitted to stuffed figures on horseback holding long 
thick spears in rest. Some of these suits were merely 
for display, and, being decorated with gold and silver, 
were very handsome. A good deal came from Nurem- 
berg, that mediseval home of metal workers. The 
historic suits of Gustavus Adolphus and the Elector 
Maurice were much like the others, and the blood 
stained scarf of Maurice and fatal flattened bullet are 
also shown. The armor consisted usually, besides the 
helmet, of a collar, movable shoulder pieces, elbow 
joints, gauntlets, breastplate coming to an edge or point 
over the abdomen, hip pieces, and perhaps also some- 
times greaves and foot coverings. Shields were ap- 
parently not much used, but chain shirts of small links 
were plentiful. Among the weapons there were, besides 
all the usual articles, rapiers with two blades, two edged 
swords, and I noticed also a dagger in two pieces made 
to spring apart in opposite directions after entering the 
flesh and thus cut a terrible wound. Of the historic 
relics we noticed Henry IV's twisted hunting horn, the 
long pistols of Charles XH. with ivory handles, all flint 
locks, and the marshal's batons of Tilly and Pappenheim. 
Swords of Peter the Great bore his name, and we saw 
also his three-cornered hat and some of his working 
tools. One of the most interesting articles is the long 
Cashmere tent of the Grand Vizier Kara Mustapha and 
in it the triangular Turkish flag, all captured by John 
Sobieski when he chivalrously came in 1683 and rescued 
Vienna. In this tent is also the glistening armor of that 



DRESDEN. 65 

noble Polish king, made of scales, on each of which is a 
little cross, and on the front a larger Maltese cross. 
Among the later curiosities was the velvet saddle of Na- 
poleon, used at the battle of Dresden, the stirrups made 
of rings. Napoleon's leg was unprotected, but the older 
saddles generally had guards before and behind. Napo- 
leon's high boots worn on that occasion have thin soles, 
and the right one was apparently taken off in such a 
hurry as to rip the heel, while in peaceful contrast in the 
same collection we saw his white coronation slippers. 
Among the recent additions to the collection were two 
captured mitrailleuses. One of brass had twenty-five 
tubes, and near the back was " N " under a crown. 

The porcelain collection on the floor above was also 
interesting. It begins Avith the big Chinese and Japanese 
jars ornamented with unearthly designs in blue, but the 
later work was more attractive. Japanese coloring was 
perhaps superior, while Chinese figures of men, lions, 
birds and other animals were stiff but forcible. Rachel 
admired most of all the cups and saucers, so neat in 
design and execution. The yellow dragon china made 
for the personal use of the Chinese emperor is rather 
rare than beautiful, and the tall Dragoon Vase given by 
Frederick William I. of Prussia to Augustus the Strong 
in exchange for a regiment of soldiers possessed little 
attraction beyond its history. Porcelain in China goes 
back to the seventh century but western china begins 
with the invention by Bottcher in 1709 at Dresden. It 
was at first red and then later white, was sometimes 
polished and always neat and often beautiful. The 
ornamentation by genre figures, garlands and heads was 
natural at that time, and established Rococo as the classic 
style for china. Painting and gilding came later, and in 
5 



66 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

this the French excelled. The manufacture was early- 
moved from Dresden to Meissen, where it still remains, 
and there during their occupation of Saxony in the 
Seven Years' War the Prussians learned the secret, which 
they have since used in Berlin to great advantage. We 
saw also numerous porcelain busts, figures and groups, 
meant for ornaments, one being a large Neptune Foun- 
tain. In the collection, too, is fayence and much rough 
Italian majolica with rude and often obscene pictures, 
and also English and foreign china and pottery of all 
descriptions. 

We often went to Briihl Terrace near by above the 
Elbe bank. It was laid out as a garden by the minister 
of that name in the eighteenth century. The steps 
approaching it have on the sides at top and foot Schil- 
ling's gilded sandstone groups of Night, Morning, Noon 
and Evening, Avhich are excellent, and the terrace, 
planted with trees and adorned with statuary, is a 
pleasant and much frequented resort. The old Elbe 
bridge is to the left, the growing Neustadt opposite, and 
beloAv in the river the steam barges go up the stream by 
taking a chain from the channel, as we had seen also in 
the Rhine and in the Neckar. In the cemetery of the 
Neustadt is the Dance of Death, a wall relief dating 
back to 1534 and very curious in design. There are 
twenty-seven figures, representing skeleton Death as 
leading on king, priest, peasant and others. 

Outside Dresden is buried Rietschel, the celebrated 
sculptor, who died here in 186 1. A Rietschel museum 
is shown in the city, containing casts of his Weber, Les- 
sing, Luther and Goethe- Schiller monuments, with many 
of the original little plaster models which he made 
as " sketches." He would make three or four for each 



DRESDEN. 67 

statue before obtaining a pose that suited him. A com- 
manding bronze Luther, cast from his original statue for 
Worms, stands in the Neuniarkt. On the Briihl Terrace 
there is a bronze monument to Rietschel by SchiUing, on 
which is the master's bust and below at the corners are 
three youths, personifying the three stages of designing, 
modelling and sculpturing. 

It is evident that Saxony, to amass the treasures now 
found at its handsome capital, must have been once 
much more wealthy and important than the little exist- 
ing kingdom of two million inhabitants. The Saxon 
tribes which colonized Britain and as a Saxon duchy 
furnished emperors to the old empire, have, however, no 
racial connection with the present kingdom of Saxony. 
Their centre was the River Weser, and Westphalia, Han- 
over and Brunswick mark the general territorial limits of 
the original Saxons. They then conquered eastwardly, 
.and Brandenburg was one outpost, the Wittenberg coun- 
try another. The present territories of the Saxon king- 
dom and the Saxon duchies of Gotha and Weniiar were 
really Thuringian and became Saxon in name in 1423, 
when Frederick, landgrave of Thuringia and margrave 
of Meissen, was granted the Wittenberg lands and the 
old dignity of Saxon elector. So that the name Saxon 
has travelled east until the true Saxons are left behind 
under other names, and aliens in blood enjoy the name 
and the kingly title into which Napoleon changed the 
electoral dignity. Saxony really has no right to its 
name. 

Primogeniture did not obtain in this country and the 
continuous subdivisions produced the numerous princi- 
palities which we now find. In the fifteenth century 
came the division into the Ernestine or Wittenberg line, 



68 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

and the Albertine or Meissen line. Elector Frederick 
the Wise, Luther's friend, was of the former and under 
him Saxony was the most important member of the em- 
pire. In the later wars the other line was imperialist 
and thus through the Emperor Charles V. acquired the 
Wittenberg title and territories, and left to the Ernestines 
only the small Weimar and Gotha principalities. But by 
turning against the emperor, Elector Maurice of the Alber- 
tine branch forced Charles V. to the peace of Passau in 
1552 and ended the long Reformation wars by securing 
religious freedom. By similarly changing sides in the 
Thirty Years' War, however. Saxony suffered from the 
armies of both Gustavus and Wallenstein, and at its end 
her influence was much lessened. Augustus the Strong 
( 1 694-1 733) was also king of Poland, and Saxony suf- 
fered much again from his Polish wars with Charles XII. 
He was Carlyle's " Augustus the Physically Strong," 
father of 354 children and amongst others of the French 
general Marshal Saxe. Augustus III. his son was 
under the influence of Count Briihl, who adorned the 
capital but brought on the disastrous wars with Prussia. 
Frederick the Great in the Seven Years' War ruled from 
Dresden as if he was the king, while the nominal king 
was hiding in Poland. Then came Napoleon's domina- 
tion of Saxony, in revenge for which on his fall Prussia 
obtained from the Congress of Vienna her present Saxon 
province, the most fertile in the Prussian state and almost 
equal in extent to what was left unpartitioned as the 
kingdom of Saxony. She sided with Austria against 
Prussia in 1866, and was mulcted heavily in money for 
it, but, as an integral and loyal member of the new em- 
pire. Saxony, now a constitutional state, is at last again 
enjoying peace and prosperity. Frederick the Wise in 



DRESDEN. 



69 



the sixteenth century decHned election as emperor, but 
had the Saxon electors enforced primogeniture and 
avoided the ignis fatuus of ruling as kings of Poland, 
the magnificent country they had at the Reformation 
would have brought the imperial title to them more 
permanently than it did to the old Saxon dukes. Their 
strong electoral territories would have become the 
nucleus for a centralized Protestant empire, and the work 
of 1870 done four centuries earlier. Austria would not 
have become dominant and Brandenburg would have 
remained a subordinate part of a great Saxon state. 




CHAPTER VI. 

CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH. 

"\1 /E left Dresden one day at noon for Carlsbad in Bo- 
' " hernia, and had a pleasant trip by rail up the Elbe 
valley through the highlands called the " Saxon Switzer- 
land," a wild country affording many splendid views. 
From the train, however, Ave saw little except the high 
wooded Elbe cliffs with slides cut for shooting the timber 
down to the water. We passed under the fortress of 
Konigstein, the one perfect stronghold in Saxony, more 
than once the resort of the royal family in times of dis- 
turbance, and all along were the peaks whence I once 
had views embracing the railroad on which we now 
travelled. 

On that earlier trip a party of us Leipzig students one 
morning left Dresden on the train for Poetzscha, to spend 
a few days tramping over the mountains. The country 
was level at first and well cultivated, but the banks of 
the Elbe grew steeper and wilder and its valley narrower 
as we advanced. From Poetzscha we were ferried over 
on our arrival about 12:50 p.m. to Wehlen for eight 
pfennigs by the ingenious method of keeping the oar 
rudder of the small boat at such an angle to the swift 
current that the boat, attached to a trembling wire fixed 

70 



CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH. 7 1 

in the middle of the river, there a hundred feet deep, 
just drifted over. 

The mpre interesting part of this miniature Switzer- 
land lies north of the Elbe, and we spent two days 
tramping over well kept roads and paths and enjoying 
fine views from its heights. Our first day was taken up 
in climbing to the Bastei, a mountain peak, and in 
thence descending to Schandau on the river. The 
route was at first up a wild, steep gorge called Tscherre 
Grund, where we saw a great natural fireplace and chiin- 
ney, named the Devil's Kitchen, and passed through the 
Felsenthor, a doorway formed by the fall of a large rock 
into the narrow pass. The Bastei stands 605 feet sheer 
above the Elbe, and commands a wide and beautiful 
view. South in a bend of the river is craggy Lilienstein, 
across the Elbe the fortress Konigstein, east the Pap- 
stein group, and away to the south the long, wooded 
Schneeberg, covered with new snow. The Brand is of 
greater height, and from its summit we had a grand pano- 
rama spread out before us, the dark mountain peaks 
rising from pine valleys or from green fields in all direc- 
tions. The descent was in part over an enormous num- 
ber of steps, and so tired us that we thoroughly enjoyed 
our night's rest at Schandau, despite the discomfort of 
our quarters there. 

The next day we saw " the Falls," induced by pulling 
a rope, and stopped by the same means — to accumulate 
for the next inquisitive traveller. We told the inn- 
keeper that his bier was better than his water, and soon 
left. Next came a fine view from the summit of the 
Kuhstall, an imposing natural archway, but the best of 
all was from a pavilion on the Grosse Winterberg, where 
we dined. Ravines, mountains, minarets and plateaus 



72 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

were all before us as we stood there t,6oo feet above the 
sea, and they made up a memorable picture. After 
leaving this we tried to get to Prebischthor, and made 
the amusing mistake of thinking the cleared boundary 
between Saxony and Bohemia was the path, and followed 
it some time before noticing that it went straight, over 
hill and precipice. Perhaps even a surer sign that it was 
not a road was the absence of guide-posts, musicians, 
and clamorous guides, so common elsewhere. Finally 
we found our way to Herrnskretschen, were ferried 
across the river to the railroad station, and went back 
by rail to Dresden, worn out but well pleased with our 
excursion through Saxon Switzerland. 

On the later trip up the Elbe valley Rachel and I 
ascended it without stopping until we crossed through 
the break in the Erzgebirge range into Bohemia. Rachel 
was asleep most of the way, exhausted from sight-seeing, 
but I enjoyed the company of an old German and his 
wife who were going to Carlsbad for the summer, and 
found them pleasant and well-informed people. We 
entered Bohemia by the route pursued by Frederick the 
Great in one of his campaigns, but we had no battle of 
Kolin to fight, and, beyond the nuisance of lugging our 
big satchels to and from the baggage room for a hurried 
customs examination, and puzzling ourselves over change 
in florins and kreutzers when we paid for lunch, we had 
no trouble on our invasion of the country. 

After a while we arrived at the station for Carlsbad, 
but the little town was some miles off down a deep de- 
scent, and could be reached only in carriages, which, 
however, were plentiful. This famous watering place is 
spread out on one or two streets along the banks of a 
half dry creek. It is made up of hotels and narrow, 



CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH. 73 

crowded houses, many perched on the sides of the high 
hills that bound the valley on either side. After loiter- 
ing around and eying the hotels, we took dinner and 
then spent some time wandering about. In a handsome 
glass hall, where people gather to talk and read, is the 
small hot geyser called Sprudel, that throws its water 
intermittently as high as the ceiling, and is the chief 
attraction of the resort. There are, however, a number 
of other springs and halls all along near the shallow 
stream ; and Bohemia, moreover, is famous for a number 
of mineral springs besides those at Carlsbad. 

The Bohemians or Czechs are neither German nor Hun, 
but Slavs like the Russians. The country Avas originally 
an independent elective kingdom, but for three centuries 
has been claimed as an hereditary possession by the sove- 
reigns of Austria. Bohemia became Protestant when 
Huss was burned at Constance in 1415 in violation of his 
safe-conduct, and under one-eyed Ziska the Bohemians 
in revenge ravaged all Saxony and central Germany. 
Their action later in choosing as king Protestant Fred- 
erick, the Rhenish elector palatine, against the will of 
Catholic Austria, began the Thirty Years' War, in the 
course of which the Protestants were expatriated, the 
land catholicized, and national feeling all but crushed. 
The celebrated Wallenstein was a Bohemian, but served 
on the Catholic side. Since then, until the European 
disturbances of 1848, the country has been an integral, 
if dissatisfied, member of the Austrian empire, but a 
number of concessions have been made to Bohemia by 
Austria in this past half century. An intelligent Czech, 
in whose company a part of the above tramp in the Saxon 
Switzerland was taken, expressed the general Bohemian 
feeling when he said that the only hope for Austria is in 



74 RAMBLkS IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

federal union. He told us that there were then thirteen 
hundred students at Prague, and that the Czech and 
German divisions were very hostile to each other. 

From Carlsbad we continued our journey towards 
Munich, spending the night near the Bavarian border, 
and next morning Ave were back amid familiar marks and 
pfennigs again. Our travel all through Bavaria was 
pleasant. There were many railroad officials, especially 
north of Munich, and we found them very obliging. Our 
numerous questions tested them thoroughly. 

We did not go to Nuremberg in old Franconia, but I 
recall this German Chester as one of the quaintest towns 
imaginable. It was a free imperial city in the middle 
ages and ruled a large territory. It was an inventive 
place, and from it come watches, gun-locks, air-guns, 
and, strange to say, here means of punishment were 
studied to such an extent as to make cruelty one of the 
fine arts. It was also famous as the home of the early 
poet Hans Sachs, and of the great painter Diirer, both 
of whom are buried in its cemetery. The walls are 
still almost intact, and the many gabled houses and 
narrow streets still defy the march of modern " improve- 
ments." 

After passing through the thick walls, at some places 
apparently double, one finds himself in the town, built 
on both sides of the river Pegnitz. St. Lawrence's 
church contains many carvings by Diirer, and a tall pyx 
elaborately wrought by Krafft, another celebrated artist, 
while in St. Sebald's is the iron sarcophagus of that 
saint surmounted by a fine Gothic canopy, the thirteen 
years' work of Peter Vischer and his sons in the sixteenth 
century, after training in Italy under Ghiberti. 

In the citadel is a curious collection of old instruments 



CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH. 75 

of torture. Drunken men were exhibited to public ridi- 
cule in hollow posts, the head showing through an iron 
cage at the top ; and there were many devices for the 
punishment of feminine unchastity. To use the rack 
they tied the prisoner to a ladder and his feet or hands 
to a wheel, and then turned the wheel and pulled the 
limbs, it may be, from their sockets. I saw also thumb- 
screws, iron boots, between which and the leg pegs were 
driven until the flesh was torn and perhaps the bone 
broken ; long pincers to pull out the tongue, a spiked 
chair, and the more merciful long-bladed sword. In the 
old castle were other instruments, such as a spiked cradle 
for grown people, and the famous Iron Virgin. The 
Virgin I think was mainly of wood. It was a hollow 
figure large enough to enclose a man, and as its front 
closed in on a criminal spikes ran through his eyes and 
breasts, and the bloody Virgin dropped her prey through 
a trap door. I saw also the plain seats of the judges and 
the cow bells rung when sentence was pronounced, as in 
Goethe's Gotz. 

Rachel did not see Nuremberg but she passed over 
the Danube between that city and Munich, and was 
much disappointed to see a narrow tawny stream instead 
of the beautiful blue Danube we read and sing about. 

But Munich, a handsome city of 250,000 people, was 
as much above our expectations as the river had been 
below. We went to the post office first and received one 
lone letter, and then walked to the middle of an adjacent 
open square to look at a statue and the flat royal palace 
facing it. A soldier marched up and ordered us away. 
We had just got off the train and I dare say looked dis- 
reputable and like anarchists. 

From here runs east to the river Isar the magnificent 



76 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Maximilian Strasse, flanked by splendid modern build- 
ings, and indeed a fine bridge extends this wide thorough- 
fare across the river, while beginning in the centre of 
the city almost perpendicular to this street beautiful 
Ludwig Strasse extends nortViwardly until it terminates 
at a handsome triumphal arch. Since artistic Ludwig I. 
began to reign in 1825 Munich has been beautified until 
it is among the best-built cities in the world. His ambi- 
tious architect Klenze gave the city no original style, 
but his modification of classic and Renaissance models 
presents impressive structures. The imposing buildings 
are given plenty of room and thus show off to great ad- 
vantage. The Glyptothek, old and new Pinacothek, the 
Propylaea copied from the approach to the Athenian 
Acropolis, and other public buildings are surrounded by 
large grounds, and in public places about the city are 
handsome fountains, some pouring out water in the shape 
of lilies. The parks, too, are numerous and attractive, 
one being laid off by Rumford. Count Rumford, by the 
way, was a great scientist, and proposed to cut down 
army estimates in a novel but effective manner. He is 
said to have told the elector that if the soldiers were 
given less to eat and made to chew longer they would be 
better off, as they would digest their food more perfectly, 
and the commissariat at the same time would be much 
less expensive ! 

The city is well paved, the streets with stone, the side- 
walks with square glazed bricks. Munich, like Frank- 
fort, Leipzig and other cities, has a belt horse car line, 
called the Ringbahn, and it was a very convenient way 
of seeing the place itself and getting to the different 
points of interest. 

Among these the picture galleries, called the old and 



CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH. yj 

ncAV Pinacotheks, are possibly the most famous. The old 
contains the old masters, the new the more recent paint- 
ings. The buildings themselves are not without merit. 
The old Pinacothek is of brick, but, as it is without the 
white lines between the bricks which we permit in 
America, the effect is very good, presenting a uniform 
reddish surface that is pleasing to the eye. Porches are 
closed in by glass projections which rather remind one 
of a greenhouse and detract from the general appear- 
ance, but neither Rachel nor I could recall a brick 
building that looked as imposing. The new Pinacothek 
has external frescoes by the great artist Kaulbach, but 
these have already been sadly marred by the weather. 

The old Pinacothek within is arranged something like 
the Dresden collection, the larger pictures in the large 
connecting central rooms, and the smaller ones in smaller 
rooms adjacent. Many masters which had become famil- 
iar at Dresden were also represented here. In these 
collections we often noticed that a painter was apt to 
have the same type in all his pictures. Paul Veronese, 
(1530-1588,) for instance, has the same kind of woman 
always, — an aristocratic and modern type. His Woman 
Taken in Adultery looks like a scandal in high life. His 
Cleopatra is anything but Egyptian. It is only in recent 
times that artists have taken to correct costuming. The 
anachronism of transferring modern or mediaeval dress 
to ancient scenes, even to the Crucifixion, is common to 
almost all the older painters. We are more critical and 
more accurate now-a-days, but if we forget these inci- 
dental defects and look at the motives of the painter and 
the emotions displayed, we find that we have more to 
learn from these old pictures than their authors could 
learn from us, Albrecht Diirer (1471-1528) has several 



78 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

excellent pictures. His Mark and St. John I liked 
much. The splendid vigor given John is rather unsuited 
to his traditional character, but probably Diirer does 
this son of thunder only justice. Raphael Mengs (1729- 
1779) has a picture of himself with palette ; he looks a 
trifle thin and has the blackness of face caused by shav- 
ing close like a priest. Near by the Swiss Angelica Kauf- 
man (1741-1807) has a pleasing picture of herself with 
crayon in hand, and is like her own Dresden Sibyl. A 
large room is filled with a splendid Rubens collection 
and an adjoining smaller one with smaller pictures by 
the same painter, less finished and colored. His Fall of 
the Angels is vigorous and gives human bodies in almost 
every position. How fond he was of female figures ! 
He Avas thereby led, curiously enough, to make his 
Resurrection and his Last Judgment, too, almost exclu- 
sively of women. The large Last Judgment has some 
beautiful figures, some modesty incarnate, although he 
seems generally to know more of its opposite. Snyders 
(1579-1657) has some good animal pieces, such as tigers, 
and Van Dyck (1599-1641) has two sacred pictures well 
contrasting. One is Mary with the infant Jesus sleeping 
on her breast, she looking away, pondering her and His 
destinies, and the other the Descent from the Cross, 
where Mary weeps over her dead Son. We had not 
thought of Van Dyck's painting anything but portraits. 
Murillo (1618-1682) also appeared in a new light, but in 
the contrary direction. His pictures of a little ragged 
boy dropping something into his mouth while his envious 
companion looks on, of another little fellow eating off 
the end of a grape bunch which he holds up while look- 
ing at his friend out of the corner of his eyes, of two little 
ragamuffins throwing dice on a stone, near which a yet 



CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH. 79 

smaller boy stands contentedly munching, — all were 
clearly Spanish and excellent. These were in one end 
room together. Claude Lorraine (1600-1682) has some 
beautiful views with the sea in the background, Poussin 
( 1 594-1 665) fine landscapes among the smaller pictures, 
and seemed to succeed best where he brought in a castle or 
something of the sort, while Salvator Rosa, (1615-1673,) 
on the other hand, does best with rocks. Barroccio 
(1528-1612) had a picture of Christ telling Mary Mag- 
dalene not to touch him, and her face was a marvel of 
love and puzzled uncertainty. Guido Reni (1575-1642) 
had several pictures, but I liked best the ecstacy of his 
Mary Ascending to Heaven. 

Thus we ended the big pictures and then turned back 
through the smaller side rooms. Dolce (16 16— 1686) is said 
to have been of a very tender, sweet disposition, and his 
pictures show it. Nothing can be purer or sweeter than 
some of his heads, for example the Magdalene he has here. 
Of course there are no end of Dutch paintings of still life, 
genre, and candlelight effects. Van der Werff (1659-1722) 
has a whole room of women in Scripture scenes, pictures 
with a beautiful glaze, but often Van der Werff — and 
even Rubens occasionally — brings in a fat, expressionless 
face. Gerard Dow (1613-1674) paints genre, so David 
Teniers the Younger, (16 10-1685,) ^^^o ^^^ ^^ animal 
concert, with cats singing from notes on the table, mon- 
keys fiddling on the floor, and an owl perched gravely 
on the music book. Diirer has a portrait of himself at 
twenty-eight (a.d. 1500) so benevolent, the hair in such 
beautiful ringlets, that we took it at first for a picture of 
Christ. Holbein has a picture of himself in 1530, young, 
independent and almost stubborn. Van Dyck has many 
portraits, all fine looking, but with a uniform Dutchy 



8o RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

cast, and Ribera has several emaciated old men, of whom 
one is the repenting Peter. We watched with interest 
the copyists, so common in all galleries. They first 
crayoned off the outlines, next set to work painting in 
grayish tints, and only then at last put on the right colors. 
They did good work, too. 

In the new Pinacothek the large pictures in the cen- 
tral saloons first attracted us. There was Piloty's Wal- 
lenstein, as he lies pale and dead on the floor before an 
astronomer ; the same painter's German prisoners scorn- 
fully passing before the Roman Emperor in a triumphal 
procession, hooted at by the Roman women and children ; 
and Hess's fine painting of Napoleon at Austerlitz. The 
smaller pictures in side rooms pleased us also, particu- 
larly those of Alpine scenes and Italian and Greek 
peasant life. A series of fine wall paintings by Rott- 
mann in an end room, lighted from above, of sites of 
ancient Greece as they now lie desolate, raised sad 
thoughts. The Greeks did not dream that " Barbarians " 
of whose existence they knew not would ever paint the 
tombs of Greek civilization. 

The interesting Glyptothek has a fine ancient collec- 
tion, in which are the archaic ^gina marbles, groups 
from the pediments of the great Doric temple on that 
island, ^gina was the centre of art before Athens 
came into prominence in the fifth century B.C., and the 
acquisition of this treasure in 1812 by Ludwig as crown 
prince was the beginning of Munich's artistic life. The 
^gina warriors are under life size. Their hair is un- 
natural, and all the fighting or dying have a queer satiric 
smile, but these figures represent a great step forward 
in ancient art. 

Munich has a number of handsome churches. In St, 



CARLSBAD, NUREMBERG AND MUNICH. 8 1 

Michael's is buried Eugene Beauharnais, Josephine's 
son, and Ludwigskirche has a passable Last Judgment 
by Cornelius, who flourished in Munich. The roof of 
this church seemed to be of variegated slate or tile and 
not of the common red tile of almost all others. In 
these countries the churches are open until late in the 
afternoon and some one is always praying in them. In- 
side with their shrines and pictures and gilt, the Catholic 
churches have the same type everywhere. In the basilica 
of St. Boniface are beautiful wall paintings, and the rows 
of pillars in the nave are monoliths of Bavarian marble. 
At Munich they use their own stone, and use it well. 

I began one day by walking out of town to the statue 
of Bavaria and her lion before the simple but imposing 
Doric colonnade called the Hall of Fame, where on 
brackets are the busts, of celebrated Bavarians. The 
wall behind was a dark red, and the ceiling, the frieze, 
etc., were colored as the Greeks used to do. It looked 
much better than one would think. The bronze statue, 
the work of the celebrated Schwanthaler, stands sixty 
feet high on a pedestal of twenty feet and is very im- 
posing. The whole structure is on a hill by the meadows 
south-west of the city and visible far and near. 

Bavaria is an art centre and has had a long 
history. It was a " march " or frontier province in 
Carolingian times, whose " margrave " (march count) 
had to watch and resist the Huns. In after centuries 
the more eastern realm of Austria (Oesterreich) had this 
duty and Bavaria became a duchy. By aiding the Em- 
peror against the Winter King, it obtained the count 
palatine's electoral dignity. The country was devastated 
in the Thirty Years' War and in Frederick's wars, and, 
while uniformly and unpatriotically favoring France, 

6 



82 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

received no substantial benefit therefrom until Napoleon 
made the elector a king. It aided Prussia, however, 
against the third Napoleon, and, though remaining a 
kingdom, became a part of the new empire, with many 
independent jDrivileges as to post, telegraph and army 
which are accorded to no other state. We noticed that 
Bavarian soldiers dress in a lighter blue and their helmets 
also differ from the Prussian. Bavarians south of Nu- 
remberg did not strike me as being so industrious as the 
northern Germans, but in art ^their supremacy in this 
century seems unquestionable. 

Our plans, however, now called us from art to the 
realm of nature as exhibited in Swiss scenery, and one 
forenoon we took the train through the Bavarian lake 
country for Lake Constance. 

The trip was a long one and the views at first tame, 
but the monotony was relieved somewhat by the per- 
formances of a bridal couple who occupied the other end 
of our compartment. Rachel and I had now been 
married so long as to watch the pair with some surprise 
and much amusement. We Avere very glad to arrive at 
Lindau on Lake Constance and walk aboard the steam- 
boat at the pier. 



CHAPTER VII. 

CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 

SWITZERLAND is the little mountainous country in 
which the Rhine, the Rhone and the Po take their 
rise, and, Avhile the people along these head waters speak 
German, French and Italian respectively, they are all in- 
tensely Swiss. The part on the Italian side of the Alps is, 
however, not considerable, and is really but a conquest 
dating back to the middle ages. The main Swiss coun- 
try cannot be understood without a good map. It may be 
divided geographically, however, into two almost equal 
northern and southern parts, separated by the Bernese 
Alps and their continuations. South or south-east of 
these are the valleys of the Rhone and the upper Rhine, 
with their tributaries. North or north-west of the 
Bernese Alps are the many lakes fed by mountain snows, 
emptying into rivers which flow westwardly out through 
level country to join the central Aare River, and the 
Aare then in turn pours its waters into the Rhine below 
the falls. These lakes and streams are in valleys, of 
which the country is a network, separated themselves by 
mountains over many of which are passes. West Swit- 
zerland is comparatively level, and even in central and 
southern Switzerland it is only the highest Alpine peaks 

83 



84 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

and ranges that carry eternal snow. Of these the greatest 
are in the Bernese Oberland and in the vast Alps that 
separate the country from Italy. Our northern division 
and the southern from Lake Geneva up to the water 
shed between the Rhone and Rhine valleys make up 
the Switzerland generally travelled. Of late the Orisons, 
the large south-eastern canton about the upper Rhine, is 
coming more and more into notice and the strange 
names of its Engadine mountains are more familiar, but 
our own route was along the older track, — from Con- 
stance and Schaffhausen to Zurich, then Lucerne, next 
over the Briinnig Pass to Interlaken to see the Bernese 
Alps, and then by Berne to Geneva, thus embracing the 
larger half of the country. From Geneva we went up 
the Rhone valley to the Simplon Pass and then travelled 
southwardly over the Alps from Switzerland into Italy. 

The western part of Switzerland is French in both 
the divisions we made above, but from about Berne east 
it is all German, and this comprises two thirds of the 
country. On Lake Constance we were in German 
Switzerland and so continued until we turned south-west 
from Berne many days later. 

Lake Constance is bounded east by Austrian Tyrol, 
south by Switzerland, and north by Germany. The 
eastern end of the lake is surrounded by mountains, 
among which the snow clad Sentis stood up prominently, 
but as we steamed on over the green water the scenery 
became more tame, and in the cold at dark we were not 
unwilling to seek the cabin. This body of water is 
thirteen hundred feet above the sea and over eight hun- 
dred feet deep. On its shores is not much of interest 
except Constance, our destination, but not far from its 
southern bank is famous St. Gall, a suppressed Benedic- 



CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 85 

tine abbey, founded in the seventh century by the Irish 
monk St. Gallus at the time when England had become 
Saxon and pagan, and the Irish were the great orthodox 
missionaries of western Europe. 

At Constance we were again in Germany. We wanted 
to spend the night at the Hotel Barbarossa, where the 
defeated Frederick in 1183 concluded a manly peace 
with his revolted Lombard towns. So we tramped up 
cobble stone streets and were directed to a high, dark 
house, entered the driveway which goes through to the 
courtyard within, and on this entry, as usual in old 
German buildings, the house-door opens. We climbed 
some winding steps before we found anybody and then 
it was a maid with a waiter of bier for uproarious guests 
in the dining room, and she told us that the hotel was 
full. We had our suspicions that the guests were also, 
and beat a retreat. Not far off was where in 1415 
Frederick, burggrave of Nuremberg, was invested with 
the march of Brandenburg and thus became the ancestor 
of kings of Prussia and the new German emperors ; but 
a hotel was more our search and we at last found refuge 
at a similar lodging house, Badischer Hof, where, 
although tired out, we had to climb two flights of steps 
to the room assigned us, the only one left. This expe- 
rience was the beginning of our hotel troubles. All over 
Switzerland we found hotels crowded, while all over 
Italy we found them empty. 

Next morning we drove around. The oaken Kauf- 
haus still stands where the Cardinals of the Council of 
Constance met, and behind the carved doors of the 
cathedral sat the great assembly itself whose labors in 
1414-1418 healed the Great Schism which had for a 
quarter of a century produced but popes and anti-popes. 



86 RAMBLES JN HISTORIC LANDS. 

This council is yet more memorable for its condemna- 
tion of John Huss for heresy. In the middle of the 
cathedral is the place where Huss stood and it is said to 
be always dry although the rest of the pavement may be 
damp. Near this church we saw the Insel-Hotel, made 
in part of the Dominican monastery where Huss was 
confined, and then we drove out past the Protestant 
Church to a newly planted grove a half mile off, the 
scene of his execution. The spot is marked by a huge 
boulder overgrown with ivy and enclosed by an iron 
fence. Here Huss was burned and later Jerome of 
Prague also. 

Then we took the boat and the trip down the green 
Rhine to Schaffhausen was delightful despite showers 
which drove us sometimes into the stuffy little eating 
cabin. The swift river was bordered on the south by 
wooded hills and romantic seats of the Bonapartes and 
other modern great, while mediaeval ruins, so common 
on the lower Rhine, were here infrequent. Very inter- 
esting was the way the boat was handled. At least once 
the funnel was lowered for a bridge. The steamer made 
landings with great ease, and the men calculated a rope 
throw to the inch. Finally at Schaffhausen the boat 
turned completely around and shot back to its landing 
like a flash. 

At Schaffhausen Ave had a good dinner, and were 
interested to learn that Schiller's Lay of the Bell was 
suggested by the inscription on the cathedral bell, 
Vivos voco^ mortiios plango, fulgura frajigo. Leaving our 
satchels and bundles, as usual, in the railroad cloak 
room for Gepaeck at ten centimes apiece, Ave took a 
carriage for the Rhine falls and return for four francs 
seventy centimes, and the drive along the cliff above the 



CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 8/ 

river, commanding its rapids, was very pleasant despite 
the shower coming back. We remained some time on 
the gallery of the island restaurant Schlosschen Worth 
admiring the scene. The river above is several hundred 
feet wide, and at its falls is divided into two parts by a 
high projecting rock, on which is a small pavilion. The 
twin cataracts thus made are fifty to sixty feet in fall, 
but, while the green and foaming water is imposing, 
especially on a nearer view, it disappointed us, fresh 
from the grandeurs of Niagara. 

The railroad from Schaffhausen crosses on a bridge 
just above the falls and over this we soon rolled, getting 
a few minutes later a farewell view of them. I did not 
revisit Basel, with the red sandstone cathedral famous 
for its curious carving and as the last resting place of 
Erasmus, but we went on southward to Zurich, where 
Ave arrived in two hours and dismounted at the hand- 
some central station. We made our way across the 
river Limmat to the excellent Hotel Central, where we 
Avere given a good room over the murmuring river. At 
Zurich began the painful experience, repeated all through 
Switzerland, of regularly going to the post office and 
finding no mail from the dear ones at home, who, as we 
now know, wrote regularly but whose letters in some 
manner never came to hand. The comfort, yes, the 
necessity of hearing from home grew as time and dis- 
tance increased, and our journey was partly spoiled by 
the total depravity of the postal authorities. 

The mpst famous view about Zurich is from the 
neighboring Uetliberg, but the evening we set apart for 
this was rainy and we perforce rested content with the 
beautiful lake scene, with snow mountains beyond, 
enjoyed from the High Promenade by the cemetery. 



88 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Zurich has fine parks and quays by the lake and a few 
good streets, but it is in general old-fashioned and 
quaint, like most of the Swiss cities that we saw, with 
narrow, winding streets overhung by dark houses, and 
its shops hardly amounting in dignity to stores. It is a 
great manufacturing point, due in part to the many and 
swift streams running through it, and is the great edu- 
cational centre of the country. Lavater, Pestalozzi, 
Bodmer, Gessner, and other educators lived and worked 
there. 

Zurich was a typical mediaeval town, long ruled for 
the emperor by a lady abbess and an aristocracy, until 
after the Hohenstaufen emperors the industrial classes 
became strong and under dictator Brun in 1336 revolu- 
tionized the constitution and became dominant them- 
selves. Up to this time Zurich had been a free city, 
whose ties to the empire were lightly regarded, and the 
prosperous but now isolated community finally joined in 
135 1 the league of the forest cantons. 

The minster or cathedral dates back to Charlemagne, 
who often resided in Zurich, and this was the church 
centuries later of the intrepid reformer Zwingli. The 
Reformation in Switzerland was independent of that in 
Germany and much more thorough. Zurich was then a 
leading city of the confederation and the market for the 
forest cantons at the other end of the long, narrow lake. 
There had of old been hostility between them, leading 
to the building of a wooden bridge across the lake at 
Rapperswyl for obtaining provisions from other markets 
than Zurich. In our own day a handsome railway via- 
duct has taken the place of this historic structure. 
Zwingli had been pastor at Glarus until his attacks on 
the Swiss practice of sending out mercenary troops in 



CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 89 

the pay of France and the Italian states made him un- 
popular and he took refuge a.d. 15 16 in the rich and 
famous Benedictine monastery of Einsiedeln near the 
south end of the lake. There the miracles of the famous 
image of the Virgin and the corruptions of the clergy 
caused him to preach reform. On being called in 15 19 
to the minster at Zurich his field was widened. His 
earnest efforts gradually reformed the whole community, 
and in 1523-1524 it became truly a primitive Christian 
state. He was a statesman as well as a theologian, and, 
as the reformed doctrines took hold in adjacent cantons, 
Zurich became with Berne the head of reformed Switzer- 
land. The religious dissensions of the cantons were as 
acute as those of the German states and led also to wars, 
in one of which Zwingli in 153 1 fell in battle against the 
conservative and Catholic forest cantons, and his body 
was barbarously quartered and burned. 

We saw on a quay by the Reuss his bronze statue and 
not far off the Rathhaus. On its top floor are sundry 
interesting collections, chief of which to us were the 
relics from the ancient lake dwellings in the vicinity, 
consisting of flints, pottery, stone pestles, stone knives, 
weapons, cloth, trinkets, bones of animals, antlers and 
even fruits, burned grain and bread. These lake dwel- 
lers were pre-historic Celts or of even some earlier race 
and many settlements have been found in Lake Zurich 
at low water and in other parts of Switzerland. Their 
houses were on piles out in the lakes for protection 
against animals or enemies, and in some places show 
much neatness and evidence of civilization. Little, 
however, is even yet known on this interesting subject. 

The railroad trip one evening from Zurich to Lucerne 
gave good views, but \<id& uneventful. On our arrival at 



90 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Lucerne we could not get in even the " unpretending " 
hotels, so that we had to follow the advice of the fair 
landlady of the Couronne and get a room in a third story- 
flat in the old town, overlooking the river Reuss. This 
was a most delightful apartment, giving us also the run 
of the family parlor with its German and French pictures 
and books. The view from the windows was pleasant. 
Not far above us in the river was the rude tower which 
as a light-house {lucernd) is said to have given the name 
to the city. AAvay to our left was the lake and its side 
bays, further on the Rigi mountain group with its flat 
summit, and to the right the jagged, sierra-like Pilatus. 
Across the river was the smaller quarter of the city. 

We were over Sunday in this great tourist centre and 
went to the Scottish church on a hill near the old walls 
and heard a good sermon. These missions pretty much 
support themselves and do a great deal of good to travel- 
lers, who are so apt when away from home, particularly 
in Europe, to forget all their religious ties and duties. 
I can go on record as to the benefit an American sermon 
in Florence did me twelve years ago. 

Lucerne is a city of about twenty thousand people and 
except for the scenery and as a convenient and favorite 
starting point for tourists is in every way of less import- 
ance than Zurich. On a side path in the outskirts is a 
wdld place, however, with two great attractions. As we 
passed shops of wood carving and other Swiss articles so 
common everywhere, we came in sight of a perpendicular 
cliff down which trickles water into a large pool at its 
base, overhung by trees, and carved in the side of the 
stone as in a niche is the Lion of Lucerne, Thorwaldsen's 
monument to the Swiss guard massacred by the Versailles 
mob while defending Louis XVI. The lion has broken 



CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 9 1 

the fatal spear which transfixed him and though dying 
still protects with one paw a shield bearing the Bourbon 
lily. Passing to the left from this great work we entered 
the>Glacier Garden and its unique array of deep spiral 
holes and the round stones which caused them. There 
are thirty-two holes within a space not over one hundred 
yards square. We passed among them by paths and 
over several large ones by bridges, the largest being 
thirty feet deep and twenty-six feet in diameter. This 
region, like much else of Switzerland, was once under 
glaciers, and the streams of water from these moved loose 
stones, causing them in turn to grind holes in the rock 
beneath. Some of the holes intersect and make it diffi- 
cult to identify the spirals. A few of the stones were 
full of shells, one we noticed with a fossil palm leaf, and 
a number were scratched, no doubt by the glacier as it 
slowly passed above. 

We took a steamer excursion one day the length of 
the mountain-bordered lake and found it full of interest. 
Near Lucerne the lake is a cross and then after passing 
through a narrow neck it becomes a carpenter's square 
joined to the long arm of the cross. The trip to Fluelen 
at the further end consumed about two and a half hours. 
The mountains were wild, their upper heights bare and 
the lo\ver slopes timbered and dotted with occasional 
dwellings, but there was no snow visible except in the 
arm near Fluelen. Along this branch of the lake, called 
Lake Uri, is the railroad to the St. Gotthard tunnel into 
Italy, and sometim.es above, sometimes below it on the 
eastern side runs a picturesque public highway, the Axen 
Strasse, in many places passing through galleries blasted 
in the rock. Shortly after making the bend in Lake Uri 
we saw on our right a little clearing half way up the 



92 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

mountain and were told it was the Riitli. Here, where 
three springs providentially came up to commemorate the 
event, on November 7, 1307, thirty-three men of the 
cantons Schwyz, Uri and Unterwalden, which border on 
this part of the lake, met and pledged themselves to drive 
out their imperial Hapsburg op^Dressors, and here often 
before had also met the three first conspirators from 
these adjoining forest cantons and planned the revolu- 
tion. The Hohenstaufen had given the cantons charters 
rendering them independent of Zurich and Einsiedeln, 
and to these emperors they had been loyal, even in the 
wars against the Lombard cities. But the Hapsburgs 
desired to annex Schwyz to their family domains and 
the cruelty of their rapacious representatives caused re- 
volts. 

From Fluelen I once walked to Altdorf, where I found 
a plaster statue representing Tell after he had hit the 
apple and holding up the second arrow with which he 
would have shot the governor Gessler had his first killed 
the boy, whose statue is two hundred feet away. Further 
on at Biirglen I had a pleasant view from a church on 
the site of Tell's house. At Altdorf a restaurant keeper 
asked me to come in. I asked if Tell had taken his meals 
there ? He said yes. But, said I, your house is but a 
few years old. " True, mein herr, I forgot that, but this 
is the place where he would have dined had he lived to 
see so pleasant a restaurant." On this I went in and had 
a good dinner. 

On our return up the lake we saw again opposite Riitli 
Tell's familiar big windowed chapel. They had loosed 
him in a storm to row them to land, but he escaped, 
leaving them to their fate, and the chapel is on the flat 
rock where he jumped from Gessler's boat. Gessler got 



CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 93 

to shore, but not long after Tell met him again and sped 
an arrow through his heart. 

However true these stories may or may not be, the 
three forest cantons Avere the first Confederates or 
Eidgenossen. They gradually made themselves free and 
at Morgarten in 1315 defeated the Hapsburgsin a famous 
battle, which marked out for the future the predomi- 
nance of infantry over the noble cavalry. From that 
time they- became as independent but allied states the 
nucleus of a growing Confederation. Pastoral Unter- 
walden was less aggressive than craggy Uri, while Schwyz 
as the most active has even given the name to the present 
country. Lucerne joined the league in 1332, Zurich 
135 1, Glarus and Zug the next year, and powerful Berne 
in 1353 completed the League of the Eight Cantons, 
which remained unchanged for over a century. 

At Vitznau on the lake we took the inclined railway 
up the Rigi. A heavy steam motor pulls the passenger 
car, both built at an angle, and we instinctively held on 
to the seats. I cannot think it perfectly safe, especially 
as they allow two trains on the track at once in sight of 
each other. There was no check available that I could 
imagine if a cog broke or the engine in any way got be- 
yond control, but I believe they have had no accidents. 
A cog wheel under the motor works down into a rack 
rail between the tracks and thus regularly and even at 
considerable speed we curved around the mountains and 
upwards, sometimes crossing bridges over yawning 
chasms, outdoing Longfellow's youth with a less strange 
device. As we went on a beautiful sunset colored the 
mountains and lighted up the blue lake stretched out 
before us, its four western arms becoming more and more 
distinct as we ascended. We went clear to the top, called 



94 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Rigi Kulm, but arrived too late for much of a view, and 
found it cold and windy. We were almost frozen as we 
followed the path some hundred yards down to a cheaper 
hotel at Rigi Staffel, where we had engaged quarters as 
we came up. The next morning Avas cloudy and we 
again had no view. Our trip was thus almost fruitless, 
and we descended disgusted. On a previous visit, how- 
ever, I witnessed a beautiful sunrise. On that occasion 
I staid also at Staffel, and about four a.m. Avas awakened 
and climbed hastily to the Kulm in hopes of a sunrise to 
repay for the misty sunset of the day before. I was not 
disappointed. First came a white streak, then a red, and 
then the daylight spread, revealing to the north and east 
plains and mountains. The sun next came up, at first 
an oval disc, renewed the tints above him and colored the 
opposite horizon over Pilatus, and on that mountain fell 
the shadow of Rigi. Full of interest Avas the gradual 
differentiation of the plains far beloAv to the north, the 
clouds hanging like solid smoke over the lakes, the 
gradual penetration of light into the LoAverz lake to the 
east, embosomed in mountains, and the indistinctness of 
the peaks between me and the sun from the very over- 
brightness behind them. The AA^hite Alps to the south 
Avere not visible from mist. Soon the sun himself Avent 
permanently under clouds and Rigi's shadoAv disap- 
peared from Pilatus. On the Rigi too I first heard the 
Alpine horn. It is a long tube fixed to the ground near 
a ravine and its beautiful echo music begins Avhenever 
the man in charge sees a traveller Avho looks as if he has 
a heart and pocket too. 

We had a quick trip back to Lucerne, got our things 
from the hotel, and just made the train for Meiringen. 
To traA^el from the Lucerne re2;ion south to that of Inter- 



CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 95 

laken, as from any valley in central Switzerland to 
another, one has to go over a mountain pass. In this 
instance the ascent over the Briinnig Pass is not so 
steep as to prevent using the common style of railroad 
track except near the top and on descending into the 
vale, where we had rack and pinion like the Rigibahn. 
Not far from Lucerne we saw the three-mile incline rail- 
way up Pilatus. This had not long been in operation 
and is very steep, the angle being almost forty-five de- 
grees. I would not care to risk my life on it, although 
they claim to have greater safeguards than the Rigi in 
that the motor cogs work from below in teeth hanging 
vertically under the edges of a central T shaped rail. 
The view from Pilatus is more extensive because the 
mountain is higher, but the summit is oftener in clouds 
and the weather always uncertain. Pontius Pilate 
drowned himself in despair in a lake at the top, and 
when his wraith tries to wash from his hands the sacred 
blood he spilled, outraged nature moans and storms. 
The mountain is the local barometer for Lucerne. If 
its head is clear in the morning, the weather is doubtful, 
but if it be shrouded in clouds until noon and then 
clears, the afternoon will be fine. 

The views en roicte to Meiringen were less grand than 
from the Rigi, although good, and those of the vale of 
Meiringen and of Lake Brienz were very pleasing. The 
railroad has been built in the last twelve years. On a 
former occasion I could not get a seat in the diligence 
and so spent two days walking over the pass. We had 
next a short boat passage to Interlaken over Lake 
Brienz, on the way seeing Giessbach falls, and finally at 
our destination put up at the Hotel Interlaken. This 
was good in every respect, even to the number of stairs 



96 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

we had to climb. Interlaken is made up of attractive 
shops with fine wood carving and other Swiss articles, 
and of hotels, many of which are palatial and have beau- 
tiful grounds. 

The next day we took the train to Grindelwald to get 
a better view of the great Alps of central Switzerland, 
the Jungfrau, Monch and Eiger of the Bernese group, 
beyound whose impassable heights of snow lies the 
Rhone valley, into which we were finally to come after a 
long detour westward to Berne and Geneva. Interlaken 
lies between two lakes in an east and west valley, and 
from the south comes another vale, itself the union of 
yet two others opening from the south and south-east. In 
the south-eastern branch is Grindelwald, below the vast 
and snowy Eiger. The village is scattered along in 
front of two rather dirty looking glaciers, which curve 
down from behind some peaks and melt into streams of 
water, which probably are making glacier gardens under 
the green ice in our own day. I once climbed over the 
pass to Grindelwald from the southern valley I men- 
tioned, that of Lauterbrunnen, where the small brook 
Staubbach falls nine hundred and eighty feet and 
becomes a mere swaying veil of spray before it reaches 
the ground. On this trip from Lauterbrunnen the 
Jungfrau with deep snows and glaciers, the peaks bare 
stone, stood opposite in the south until I reached the 
Little Scheideck. The huge mass of snow was blinding 
and as I walked I saw several impressive avalanches 
sweep majestically on and fall as dust over three suc- 
cessive precipices, with noise like thunder. I was glad 
that there was a safe valley between us. From the 
Scheideck, a water shed, I climbed the Lauberhorn to 
the north and had a magnificent view ; to the west and 



CONSTANCE AND NORTH SWITZERLAND. 97 

north was the Liitschine valley with Interlaken and its 
mountains beyond, east the Grindelwald valley with little 
squares of wheat on the slopes, the high Wetterhorn and 
Screckhorn by it, and then, connecting them with the 
Jungfrau, the precipitous Eiger and snowy Monch. West 
of the concave Jungfrau were the Silberhorn, Breithorn 
and other white peaks, and all around on the west, north 
and east were smaller mountains. The view was much 
finer than from the Rigi because nearer the great snow 
heights. 

On that trip I did not return to Interlaken and go 
around west to the Rhone valley, but climbed over the 
pass to Meiringen and went southwardly to the Rhone 
glacier. To effect this I left Grindelwald at 6:30 o'clock 
one morning and commenced climbing the Grosse 
Scheideck Pass. The sun was just beginning to touch 
the lower grass-grown mountains like the Lauberhorn, 
whence I had been driven the day before by a hailstorm, 
and it now produced a soft and pleasing impression. 
From a meadow I had a fine view of the green Rosen- 
laui glacier, with bare mountains above the pines. 
Further on in descending to the vale of Meiringen with 
its pleasant waterfalls and distant view, I sprained my 
ankle and could hardly drag myself up to Guttanen. 
On the way I saw the industrious cheese carriers in 
abundance. One Saturday I spent from 6:30 a.m. to 
1:30 P.M. climbing the bare upper Haslithal valley, 
where but a few houses exist. Granite prevails, pines 
become stunted and finally cease, while daisies and rho- 
dodendra flourish. The view was always wild and some- 
times imposing, as at the double cataract of Handeck, 
two hundred feet in fall, the foaming Aare River dancing 
over rocks hundreds of feet right below the path. The 



98 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

summit is called the Grimsel Pass and there above the 
clouds in 1799 was a battle in which the French defeated 
the Austrians. Over that desolate place I passed and in 
descending the zigzag road was lost in admiration of the 
huge Rhone glacier, whose melting ice supplies the head 
waters of the great French river. Thence I took the 
diligence down the Rhone valley towards Zermatt and 
Chamouny. 

But that was years ago, in August, 1880. Now we 
went back by rail from Grindelwald to Interlaken and 
one morning started off westward in a two-story car for 
Lake Thun, had a pleasant boat trip on that blue sheet 
of water, commanding fine Alpine views, and then an 
uneventful railroad journey over lowlands to Berne. 





CHAPTER VIII. 



BERNE AND FRENCH SWITZERLAND. 



DERNE is the capital of Switzerland and has had a 
*-^ long, eventful history. It has been a powerful and 
aggressive state, always oligarchic in its tendencies, and 
thus often compared with Venice, despite their opposite 
geographical surroundings. It was founded in August, 
1 191, in the next century became independent of the 
empire, gradually acquired a great deal of subject terri- 
tory, including the Bernese Oberland which we had just 
visited, and since it joined the Confederation has always 
been a leading member. The legislative assemblies meet 
here twice a year, their proceeding being in both French 
and German. 

We had but a few hours after dinner to spend seeing 
this quaint city. It is on a precipitous peninsula sur- 
rounded on three sides by the river Aare, here much 
larger than where I had seen it near its source. The 
main street of Berne runs east from the railway station 
a mile, but under several different names. At one place 
it is crossed by a portal, once a city gate, with a remarka- 
ble clock. Bruin is the patron saint of Berne and just 
before this clock strikes a number of miniature bears 
parade before a seated figure near it. Many streets have 

99 



100 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

covered passage ways instead of sidewalks, and from a 
bench on one we saw soldiers pass to join in celebrating 
the city's seven hundredth anniversary. The main street 
at its eastern extremity crosses the Aare by the fine 
Nydeck bridge, and on the other side of the river is a 
bear pit maintained at the expense of the city. The 
view from this bridge of the river far below is impres- 
sive. On our return we went off to the left to see the 
distant Bernese Alps from the cathedral terrace, but a 
heavy rain cut off all views and drove us into a shop. 
No carriages were near and we had to pick our way 
back to the main street in the rain and there take the 
car to the station. 

The glimpse we had of the cathedral, inside and out, 
made us wish for more time here, but we could not stay. 
We were still several days behind in our plans, despite 
the change in route at Lucerne by which we gave up the 
trip from Altdorf to the Rhone glacier. So we went 
aboard a train and kept on towards Lausanne, and, as 
usual in Switzerland, were in a very comfortable car. In 
French Switzerland we found the cars somewhat on the 
American plan in that they had a passage way through 
the middle and seats on the sides, but these faced each 
other and so some people rode backwards. The second 
class cars are quite comfortable, and even have lavatory 
conveniences aboard. 

Not long before we reached the Lausanne we passed 
through a tunnel and came out on our first view of Lake 
Geneva. The large sheet of blue water, dotted with 
steamers and boats with lateen sails, the sloping shores 
revealing vineyards and handsome villas, to the east the 
high peaks, on the top of many of them snow, and lower 
down wreaths of clouds, all colored by a glorious sunset, 



BERNE AND FRENCH SWITZERLAND. lOI 

made up together a vision of beauty which we have 
never seen equalled. 

Lausanne is on a ridge high above the lake and 
very uneven, — one is going up or down hill all the 
time. It is broken in two by a valley between the castle 
height and the cathedral hill, but a handsome bridge 
connects the two quarters. In the lower level between 
we found a hotel, which we remember for the lake view 
from its terrace and also because they charged us extra 
for soap. Attendance and light, that is to say a candle, 
always add a franc or two, but soap we had generally 
enjoyed without extra charge. We had learned the 
trick of taking the candle along that we paid for and so 
avoiding charge for bougie at the next stop, and so now 
we put the soap in the satchel too. After a hasty view 
of the magnificent cathedral, where in 1536 a disputa- 
tion in which Calvin took part resulted in winning this 
Canton Vaud for the reformed faith, we went down the 
incline railway to the lake at the boat station Ouchy, a 
separate town, and here, where Byron wrote his Prisoner 
of Chillon, we went aboard a steamer for Geneva. 

Two hours over the beautiful blue waters brought us 
to that city and we went to Hotel de la Poste, which 
proved to be rather unsatisfactory as to meals a la carte. 
We remember the steak, for one thing, with peculiar 
horror. 

Geneva is the handsomest and probably the largest of 
the Swiss cities, Zurich being next in size. Its position 
is somewhat like Zurich, Lucerne, and even Constance 
and Basel, in that it lies on both sides of a river into 
which a lake contracts to discharge towards the western 
streams. The Rhone, however, like Lake Geneva, is a 
beautiful blue, while all the other lakes we noticed ex- 



I02 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

cept Lake Thun are green, and this difference has never 
been satisfactorily accounted for. The city extends 
along the river and lake, bordered by promenades, 
quays and parks. The river is swift but in some places 
shallow and full of floating wash houses with women 
hard at work, and the long connecting bridges are sub- 
stantial, the Pont du Mont Blanc, the one nearest the 
lake, being very handsome. From the adjacent Quai 
du Mont Blanc that high round-topped peak and group 
are visible although fifty miles away, and sunlight and 
sunset coloring stay on it after the city is in twilight. 
Mont Blanc is the highest mountain in Europe, being 
fifteen thousand seven hundred and thirty feet, while 
the Jungfrau is thirteen thousand six hundred and sev- 
enty feet and Monte Rosa on the Italian line fifteen 
thousand two hundred and seventeen feet high. 

On this quay is the handsome monument to the eccen- 
tric ex-duke Charles II. of Brunswick, who died here in 
exile and bequeathed his property to the city, and behind 
the Mont Blanc bridge is a pleasant little island in the 
river with a seated statue of the " self-torturing sophist, 
wild Rousseau." The city has had many other famous 
residents, including Calvin, Beza, Knox, Voltaire, Hume, 
Gibbon, Mme. de Stael, Sismondi and others, and it has 
produced many scientists, particularly botanists and 
geologists. In 1536 the austere John Calvin, a refugee 
from Paris, came here and aided Farel, the fiery Prot- 
estant preacher, and, despite a temporary banishment, 
obtained the strongest possible hold on the community, 
it being both political and religious. His method of 
church and social government was by the Consistoire, 
made up of half as many ministers as elders, and their 
rule, almost inquisitorial, suppressed vice and made of 



BERNE AND FRENCH SWITZERLAND. I03 

gay Geneva a model community whose influence was 
world-wide. His reformation was as much more thorough- 
going than Zwingli's as that was than Luther's, although 
his teaching as to the communion was mediate between 
theirs. Luther in his dispute with Zwingli said dog- 
matically that the words, " This is my body," were to be 
taken literally, and his consubstantiation was very nearly 
the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence of Christ in 
the emblems, while Zwingli claimed that the words were 
figurative and the act but an instructive memorial. 
Calvin said that Christ was present spiritually to such as 
communed aright and that He could be spiritually dis- 
cerned. Calvin was almost a Protestant Pope while 
alive, and as the interpreter of Paul and Augustine and 
their teachings as to predestination was the founder of 
great churches, and even after his death in 1564 he 
powerfully influenced the doctrine of others which did 
not accept his method of church government. The 
Church of Scotland was built by his disciple John Knox, 
Holland followed him, and the Presbyterians of the 
United States look to Calvin as the greatest of all ex- 
positors of the Bible. He was an untiring worker. His 
greatest book, Christianse Religionis Institutio, was pub- 
lished at Basel in 1535. The stern man loved Geneva 
as his own soul. He preached in the cathedral, a stone 
church with handsome Corinthian portico, the interior 
an imposing transition between Romanesque and Gothic, 
and his chair stands under the pulpit. We heard a 
magnificent organ concert there one night, the vast 
building lighted only by a few little lamps which hardly 
lessened the gloom. Calvin's grave is outside of the 
city, but exactly where is not known, as he wished it to 
be unmarked. He lived near his church in a plain 



I04 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

house, and not far away in Grand Rue was born in 17 12 
Jean Jacques Rousseau, the son of a watchmaker. We 
visited the Calvinium, said to contain memorials of 
Calvin, but there was nothing to be seen of his except 
some books and I believe a chair. There was a good 
relief of Jerusalem and other interesting things, but they 
did not relate to Calvin. 

Geneva from Calvin's time long had no theatres. 
Voltaire chuckled greatly over getting the strict city 
fathers out to his villa at Ferney and treating them to a 
performance of one of his plays. Now the Geneva 
theatre is as handsome as the cathedral and the fine square 
on which it faces far outdoes the.cramped hilly surround- 
ings of Calvin's church. On this square is also a hand- 
some museum presented by the Rath family to the city 
in honor of the Russian general of that name, who was 
born in Geneva. Near is a botanic garden, and above 
on the hills is the University, with valuable scientific 
collections. In the old hilly cite not far from there I 
noticed Paradise Street, Purgatory Street, and Hell 
Street, — a curious survival of old nomenclature. 

Geneva was once subject to Savoy and the history of 
its struggles with the counts and dukes of that country 
is interesting. The bulk of the patriotic citizens were 
for a league with powerful Berne of the Swiss Eidgenos- 
sen, of which the French pronunciation made Huguenots. 
It M^as only in Calvin's time that the bishop was driven 
out and the state became truly independent, for ambi- 
tious Berne had only aided Geneva for her own purposes, 
and would if uncontrolled have annexed this canton as 
she had Vaud. The last attempt of the Savoyards to cap- 
ture the city was by escalade December 12, 1602, (still 
celebrated as a holiday,) at a place in the old walls near 



BERNE AND FRENCH SWITZERLAND. 1 05 

the river now marked by a fountain. Under Napoleon 
the city was a part of France, but after his fall it be- 
came the twenty-second canton of the Swiss Confedera- 
tion. 

We had a long steam tramway ride in the eastern 
suburbs but I remember even more pleasantly a walk I 
had on a former occasion past the fine Rothschild 
chateau to Ferney. At this village, which is over the 
French border, I saw an ugly bust of the " patriarch " 
Voltaire and since then I believe he has been honored 
with a bronze statue. My tramp out consumed about an 
hour and I spent the night at the little Voltaire Inn, from 
whence I was all but driven, however, by the odorous 
Swiss cheese set before me. I had never seen liquid 
cheese before, and have avoided it ever since. In the 
outskirts of the village is Voltaire's church with the 
ambitious inscription, " Deo erexit Voltaire." It is of 
stone, low and squatty, with a small clock tower and 
cross on top, — the last, however, hardly Voltaire's. His 
adjacent long, white chateau looks cool and pleasant. It 
is of French Renaissance style with mansard roof, has 
three entrances from the front, and, with its fine shrub- 
bery, is kept in beautiful order by its owner, M. Lambert. 
Voltaire lived here the last twelve years of his adven- 
turous life, spending his vast means in helping the poor 
and aiding political and religious offenders. He wished 
to be near the border so as to escape if his satires should 
happen to hurt those in power at Paris. 

From Geneva one morning we took the boat to Ville- 
neuve at the other end of the lake. The trip consumed 
between four and five hours, pleasantly spent in watch- 
ing the exhibitions of a contortionist, in listening to a 
good string band, which, like the other exhibitor, took 



I06 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

up frequent collections. We especially enjoyed the 
beautiful scenery. The lake is a crescent forty-five 
miles long, with its horns pointing southwardly. It is at 
one place, off Ouchy, ten hundred and fifteen feet deep, 
but generally much less. On the south side are the 
abrupt mountains of France, which there touches the 
lake almost its full length, while on the north are gentler 
slopes with beautiful villas and vines and foliage. On 
that side at Coppet was the residence of the Genevan 
banker Neckar, celebrated perhaps more as the father 
of Mme. De Stael than as finance minister of Louis 
XVI. Further east is the chateau of Prangins, formerly 
the property of Joseph Bonaparte, and then of Prince 
Jerome, who died lately. At Paris a few weeks later we 
saw it advertised for sale, but we made no offer, as it did 
not suit us in several respects. 

Familiar Lausanne we then passed, soon were opposite 
Vevey and Clarens, immortalized by Rousseau, and we 
hurried through dinner to get on deck and see the 
gloomy but not imposing red roofed Castle of Chillon. 
It was once on an island but the shallow channel under 
its bridge has been filled by time. It dates back at least 
to Louis le Debonaire in 830, and the celebrated Count 
Peter of Savoy in the thirteenth century put it in its pres- 
ent condition. Every one remembers here Byron's Pris- 
oner of Chillon, but, as in so much familiar poetry of his, 
we cannot look for the exact historical truth. When he 
wrote it it was intended as a fable, and he did not know 
the story of one great victim, Bonivard, a friend of 
Geneva and an enemy of the Savoyards, who was im- 
prisoned here by the duke from 1530 until rescued six 
years later by the Bernese. Bonivard may have been 
chained to one of the massive pillars in the dark dungeon 



BERNE AND FRENCH SWITZERLAND. 10/ 

and the sad floor trod until his very steps left their trace 
in the worn stone pavement, but he had no brothers there 
to die before his eyes, the dungeon is well lighted, it is 
not below the level of the sea, and the smiling little isle 
was not planted then. The only way to read the poem 
is as an idyl and not as history. Imprisonment in this 
gloomy place, hearing only the waves beat on the thick 
stone walls, is, however, a sufficiently sad fate in itself. 
Bonivard on his return to Geneva tried to make up in 
gaiety for some of the years thus lost, and fell more than 
once under the displeasure of Calvin and the judgment 
of the Consistoire. At the east end of the lake we 
noticed, by the way, that the river, which issues at 
Geneva a blue stream, is where it comes in very muddy 
and not blue, as Byron has it in the poem. Its deposits 
are gradually extending a marsh out into the lake. 

From Villeneuve we went by rail up the Rhone valley 
to Brieg, the river being now on one side, now on the 
other of the track, passing interesting places, and 
having often fine views of mountains, side valleys and 
cascades. At St. Maurice the Theban legion under its 
commander of that name suffered martyrdom in a.d. 
302, but we had already found them buried at Cologne. 
As we waited at the station for a train we saw before us 
a hermitage perched picturesquely half way up a cliff, 
reached only by a path cut in the rock. 

Martigny further on is the usual stopping place for 
travellers to Chamouny, and from here I made that trip 
some years ago. I started early up the zigzag road, at 
seven I believe, and resisting all seductions of ugly young 
girls with fine grapes, plums and pears, temptations com- 
mon enough, I climbed on, having beautiful views of the 
great valley clear up to Sion. Near the Col de Forclaz 



I08 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Pass I left the road for the Col de Balme bridle path and 
just before reaching the steep zigzag overtook a guide, 
a young man on horseback, and one on foot. I soon 
made the acquaintance of the one afoot and we went 
on together. A rain storm overtook us near the summit 
but afterwards we obtained a view of the Mont Blanc 
group of snow-clad mountains, with an occasional glacier 
projecting into the valley. About five, after being caught 
several times in the rain while descending, we arrived at 
a hotel near Chamouny, and there stopped. The next 
morning my new friend and I started about seven, 
climbed the Montanvert opposite and on top had a good 
view of the Mer de Glace as it lay before us, bending 
around from behind peaks to the right, and below us 
sinking as a frozen waterfall, much broken as it came 
over a sharp incline. We did not appreciate its size 
until we saw the little people on it. Our economical 
plan for crossing without a guide was to follow a party 
who had one, and so we did. The uneven surface was 
as if made up of frozen waves. These were easy to 
climb and the melty ice was not slippery, but it was 
not pleasant to see around us fissures of all sizes and 
holes that apparently had no bottom. The party ahead 
became alarmed and after a while turned back, leaving 
us without a guide. I then undertook to pilot, as my 
bump of locality is well developed, and I got along all 
right until we approached the shore, where the ice was 
rough and broken. A man directed us from land, how- 
ever, to some steps in the ice, and we finally found our 
way over the moraine of rocks and dirt and climbed a 
narrow and steep path that runs along the frozen river. 

The next day my friend left and I climbed the Flegere 
alone. From this mountain Mont Blanc is seen to ad- 



BERNE AND FRENCH SWITZERLAND. 109 

vantage, its rounded peak and companion group standing 
prominent to the right of the town, letting down near 
Chamouny the huge, broken Glacier des Bossons, while 
to my other hand was the Mer de Glace, surrounded by 
its needle peaks, more pointed than those so common in 
the Saxon highlands. The amount of the Mer de Glace 
which actually goes over the final cliff is very small, red 
stone being visible on one side. The upper part of Mont 
Blanc is. precipitous, its needles bare of snow. The ice 
is in some places smooth, in others cracked and broken 
in every direction as if by an avalanche or earthquake. 
The lower half of the group is covered with the green of 
pines and shrubbery and grass, and its easier slopes melt 
insensibly into the valley. Occasionally I saw a chalet 
of logs, and storehouses resting on pillars and round 
stones to keep out rats. Mont Blanc is on the line between 
France and Italy. It was first ascended in 1786 and has 
been often since. There are regular guides who take you 
up in three days, but the trip is sometimes dangerous and 
the view always unsatisfactory. 

But Rachel and I did not stop at Martigny to make an 
excursion to Chamouny nor did we branch off there to 
follow the St. Bernard route into Italy. Keeping on up 
the Rhone valley, we passed the two castled hills of Sion, 
the capital of the canton Valais, which extends all the 
way up to the Rhone glacier. Sion's bishop was much 
courted in the middle ages, for he could direct the 
mercenary troops of Switzerland in any direction. Above 
.Sion are terraced vineyards, and here too in the Rhone 
valley we saw tnany cases of goitre, but the disease seems 
to distress strangers much more than the unfortunates 
themselves. Swiss costumes are picturesque. About 
here the black hats with brush-like edge of the women 



no RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

and the blouses of the men worn outside their pantaloons 
are noticeable, and the way children salute by kissing the 
hand is very attractive. French is common up to Visp 
but from there German prevails. 

From Visp there is now a railroad to Zermatt, but on 
my earlier visit I had to foot it up this side valley, a dis- 
tance of perhaps twenty-five miles. A steep climb from 
Zermatt up the Riffelberg brought me to Gorner Grat 
and the view of Monte Rosa, the Matterhorn and that 
vast field of glaciers, the grandest view in Switzerland. 
It was a bad day, however, and rain and sleet and 
volumes of mist obscuring everything soon drove me 
down. 

Not far above Visp Is Brieg, the starting point of the 
Simplon route over into Italy, and there we stopped, al- 
most in sight of the Rhone glacier and Furca Pass, by 
which I had once come over from Canton Uri and the 
head waters of the Rhine. 




^ 








^^^ 


.^^^ 






^^^^^^ ^ 


^^& 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE SIMPLON PASS AND ITALIAN LAKES. 

TT was a choice at Brieg between crowded hotels, and 
^ our choice unfortunately gave us a cold though good 
dinner at second table and a room over the hotel stable. 
Fleas had been rare heretofore but from here on we had 
th'em with us always. 

Early in the morning we were called, had a breakfast 
of eggs and coffee, and left the hotel, fully disgusted with 
the big prices and poor service. Switzerland was over- 
run with tourists. On account of the strained relations 
then existing with Italy, few Americans went there that 
summer, and the hotel keepers in Switzerland knew that 
they would necessarily get crowds, regardless of how they 
treated them. At the post office, which runs the dili- 
gences, we found them hitching up two ponderous stage 
coaches. The night before I had been balked by finding 
that but one coach was contemplated, and, as applicants 
ahead of us had secured the coupe in front under the 
driver and the seats on top, we were then assigned to the 
interieur, which gives. a poor view ; but now we were 
enabled to get seats on top of the second coach by pay- 
ing extra. This place is at the rear and they call it the 
banquette. On our coach it was unusually large, con- 

III 



112 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

sisting of four seats facing each other and having a buggy 
top behind, which could be raised in bad weather. After 
the numerous pieces of baggage had been put on the 
coaches, strapped safely in front of the banquette, and we 
had with more or less grace climbed up a ladder and got 
into our places, we started off in fine style, the driver in 
front cracking vigorously his long whip and another man 
musically blowing a horn. Our party of four in the ban- 
quette was made up besides ourselves of a silent young 
man, I think a Frenchman, and a most entertaining and 
travelled elderly Englishman, of whom we were to see a 
great deal for several days. 

The forty-one miles over to Domo D'Ossola were 
made inside of ten hours, including a rest at the Hospice 
on the summit of the pass and half an hour for dinner 
at Simplon half way down the other side. The view at 
first presented no unusual features as we zigzagged up 
the mountain side above decrepit Brieg and commanded 
the valley of the Rhone. The clouds hung over the 
Aletschhorn and Finsteraarhorn across the valley and 
only occasionally through rifts could we see their snowy 
robes. We were almost opposite Fauterbrunnen and 
due south from Grindelwald, twenty miles away on the 
other side of the great Bernese Jungfrau group, of which 
the mountains just named are the rear peaks. I do not 
know whether adventurous travellers have climbed over 
this group or not. The Jungfrau has frequently been 
ascended, but certainly not often the whole of this great 
barrier between the Rhone valley and the Bernese Ober- 
land. 

The Simplon road was constructed by Napoleon 1800- 
1806 to avoid the necessity for such another feat as his 
passage of the Great St. Bernard in iSoo with 30,000 



THE SIMPLON PASS AND ITALIAN LAKES. II3 

men. The route finally terminates at Milan, where it is 
spanned by a triumphal arch, and the road is one of 
Napoleon's best monuments. It winds up around the 
edge of mountains, bordered with stones and a strong 
railing on the brink of precipices, and in places is blasted 
out of the solid rock. Often one can climb from one 
level to another in a few minutes and have to wait half 
an hour for the diligence to wind up to the point thus 
gained. Where avalanches are common it passes through 
tunnels with windows, and the masses of snow and ice 
harmlessly thunder overhead and fall thousands of feet 
below. The road up to the Hospice in general over- 
hung the deep valley of the Salt'ine stream, once making 
a long detour to the left to cross a side valley near its 
head. We had now left the Rhone and the views were 
only of bleak mountains, pine covered slopes and 
perhaps pleasant valleys below us, bare or snowy sum- 
mits towering above. Sometimes we would see a little 
clearing on the mountain side and in the middle a 
cottage, its wide eaves projecting and roof boards held 
on by weighty stones instead of nails. The owners are 
often hunters or herdsmen and absent much of the day. 
Such homestead entries surely cannot cost much. As 
we ascended, the temperature became continually colder 
and our thick buggy robe from Leipzig aided nicely in 
keeping warm all four of us. Every few miles is a 
refuge, a stone house for travellers in time of storm. 
Our English acquaintance had a friend who was confined 
in one of the upper refuges for two or three weeks and 
lost his health from exposure. Not far from the top is 
the Kaltwasser gallery, a tunnel over which now in sum- 
mer poured water from the blinding Kaltwasser glacier 
above, a part of Monte Leone, the snowy group which 



114 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

is here the crown of the Alps. The highest point of the 
pass is 6590 feet, and a short distance off, and but twenty 
feet lower, is the plain stone Hospice with high steps 
ascending to it. All was bare around except for daisies, 
bluebells and rhododendra. Napoleon erected this large 
building to take the place of the smaller Old Hospice 
further down, and in it is his portrait. The institution 
is now owned and managed by the St. Bernard brethren, 
a branch from the higher but less frequented hospice on 
the St. Bernard pass. These noble men devote them- 
selves without remuneration to the rescue of travellers, 
living a life of hardship and want in order to aid others, 
and early lose their own health and retire to the valleys 
to die. The great tawny dogs walked around before us, 
taking now their short summer vacation. I went over 
this pass once in April. The snow was then as high as 
the top of the diligence, and although it was cleared 
away from the road, it stood in walls on either side. 
The dogs then were on the alert and sniffing the air. 
Now after a short halt we went on and at Simplon, two 
thousand feet lower, we had an excellent dinner about 
noon at a reasonable price. 

The descent was much more rapid, of course, and the 
scenery perhaps more picturesque. The brawling Di- 
veria, our first Italian stream, accompanied the road, 
and soon we found ourselves in the gloomy Gondo 
Ravine, where perpendicular walls of stone towered 
on either hand two thousand feet above us. At one 
point the road seemed shut in by a rock, but there was a 
tunnel, out of which we came beside a waterfall. This 
gorge is perhaps the most impressive part of the trip. 

A granite column near here marks the Italian bound- 
ary, and at Iselle the suspicious-looking custom-house 



THE SIMPLON PASS AND ITALIAN LAKES. II5 

officials thoroughly went through the baggage. Rachel 
had a wooden darning ball which they examined with 
great care, shaking their heads and bouncing the sus- 
pected article on the floor, but tobacco and wines are 
their especial objects, as we had opportunity on several 
occasions to notice. At this place I met with a painful 
accident. In descending from the banquette, as the 
stage leaned over to one side I had to catch the wheel 
to keep myself from falling. I happened to grasp the 
tire and it was so hot from its long journey that it burned 
its painful width across my hand. Fortunately we had 
vaseline along and I was made as comfortable as circum- 
stances admitted, but it was a number of days before I 
could use the hand again. 

On account of this accident the rest of the trip was 
less enjoyable, but we went down at a rapid pace, find- 
ing the climate vastly changed and trying by discard- 
ing shawls and hoisting umbrellas to become acclimated. 
The trees and flowers all became more tropical and re- 
minded us of our own southern home, and about four 
P.M. we reached Domo D'Ossola and left the great 
diligence for a rather primitive railroad train, which, 
however, brought us safely down a valley to the station 
for Pallanza. We there got in a 'bus and had a pleasant 
trip to Lake Maggiore, I keeping the western sun out 
by holding my umbrella outside of the rear of the 'bus, 
much to the surprise and amusement of the natives. At 
the town we changed to a vehicle lighted by electricity 
and were finally landed at the Grand Hotel. 

This is beautifully situated on the lake, lighted by 
electricity, complete in all its arrangements, and reason- 
able in its charges. It was the best hotel by far of all 
our travels and here we spent most delightfully several 



Il6 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

days, not a little of our enjoyment due to discovering 
that the cook could prepare American ham and eggs. 
The hotel is near where a western bay joins Lake Mag- 
giore midway its length and a few feet off is one of the 
islands that adds so much picturesqueness to the view. 
Opposite across the lake is a high mountain from behind 
which the sun rises, and north and south stretches green 
Lake Maggiore, its sloping wooded banks dotted with 
villages and the handsome gardens of hotels and private 
residences. To the north appear snowy Alpine peaks 
in the distance which contrast strangely with the figs, 
olives, flowers and vines about us on the hilly shores. 

One day we took a boat ride on these waters. We 
passed through the Borromean Islands near Pallanza, 
one inhabited by fishermen, and another the famous 
Isola Bella, occupied by an uncompleted chateau with 
ten terraces, or hanging gardens, filled with all the beau- 
tifvd vegetation that Italy offers, her " waste more rich 
than other climes' fertility." About are statues and the 
general rococo ornamentation of the seventeenth cen- 
tury, fashionable when Count Borromeo converted the 
bare rock into this rather artificial Eden. Isola Madre 
is not unlike Isola Bella, and in fact the whole group is 
interesting. Further south above Arona is the colossal 
bronze statue of S. Carlo Borromeo, seventy feet tall and 
standing on a base almost as high. He was born here 
and has for his goodness been canonized by the people 
as well as by the pope. At Arona itself we took dinner 
with our English friend and were introduced by him to 
the famous and delightful Gorgonzola cheese. 

After this good rest at our Grand Hotel and many 
chats and strolls with Mr. Holmes during our stay, we 
started one morning for Lake Como by way of Lugano. 



THE SIMPLON PASS AND ITALIAN LAKES. II7 

We left the Maggiore steamer at Luino and entered a 
narrow gauge car, which whirled along a wild and 
wooded route, following the line between Italy and 
Switzerland, to Ponte Tresa. There we went aboard a 
small boat on Lake Lugano, but were kept down in the 
cabin much of the way by the rain. Rachel was an- 
noyed by an impolite couple who spent much of their 
time looking at her. They were human pigs, any way. 
We first saw them at Brieg taking up four or five seats 
in the 'bus with umbrellas and sticks, which could have 
gone on the floor, and thus all but making several people 
walk that long road up to the hotels. Unable now to 
stand it longer, I took a chair and sat down in front of 
them, and stared at them myself until they left that part 
of the boat. We expressed our opinion of them fully to 
each other and were delighted later to learn that they 
understood English. I do not know what they thought 
of us, but I know that it could be nothing worse than 
we thought of them. 

Lake Lugano somewhat resembles the letter S, with 
the town on the west side near the middle. We got on 
the boat near the southern extremity and navigated the 
whole length of the lake, and although the views when 
the rain permitted us to go outside were much the same, 
they were quite imposing. We all but circumnavigated 
a range, called Mte. Arbostora at the south end and at 
its north Mte. S. Salvatore, and just after turning to the 
north towards Lugano passed under the arches of the 
St. Gotthard railway as a train thundered across above 
us. We had seen this railroad coming down the east 
end of Lake Lucerne in many turns and tunnels, and, 
passing through Altdorf, it climbs the Reuss valley in 
numerous curves until at Andermatt it goes under the 



Il8 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Alps through a tunnel nine miles and a quarter long. It 
thence descends a valley here to Lugano, crosses down 
to Como and finally ends at Milan. 

At Lugano we were in Switzerland again, in the Can- 
ton Ticino, and got from the post our spare satchel, 
shipped at the price of one franc from Geneva. We 
dined here and had a view of the railway up Mte. S. 
Salvatore, operated by a cable but re-inforced by rack 
and pinion too, whose incline near the top is as sixty to 
one hundred. This was worse than the trans-Alpine 
Switzerland and we had no desire to try it. From the 
Lugano pier Ave took a second steamer up to the north 
end of the lake, where at Porlezza we got on another 
narrow gauge railroad. Our train dashed at great speed 
along the edge of precipices and on bridges over deep 
chasms, all in a heavy downpour of rain that obscured 
the view and in places covered the track with water. 
It was an uncanny trip, but, as the road bed was rock, 
no harm came to us from the storm. 

At last, as we arrived in sight of Lake Como and be- 
gan to back down to its level, a great ray of sunlight 
came through the clouds and struck the water midway 
between the shores, and it then travelled up and down 
the lake, lighting everything with a beautiful blue. All 
the passengers crowded to that side of the car and gazed 
in rapt silence at the wondrous sight. It was as if a 
spirit walked the water. 

The boat soon arrived at the landing and we crossed 
to Bellagio, near the point where the two arms of the 
lake separate. There at our pleasant little Hotel Flor- 
ence we staid from this Saturday evening until Monday 
afternoon, enjoying the views and trying to resist buying 
more of the native carved olive wood than we could carry. 



THE SIMPLON PASS AND ITALIAN LAKES. lig 

Lake Como is thirty miles long and at its widest part 
is 1930 feet deep, over a quarter of a mile, but Lake 
Maggiore at some places is 2800 feet. About half way its 
length Lake Como divides into two southern branches, 
of which the western, at the foot of which lies Como, is 
the more beautiful and better settled, while the banks of 
the eastern arm, called Lago di Lecco, are steeper and 
wilder and from it the waters of the lake empty into the 
river Adda, a tributary of the Po. 

The sunsets and views on Lake Como have been 
famous since the days of Pliny and Virgil and we en- 
joyed them in all their glory even from our room win- 
dows. One day we rowed around the point and found 
that this promontory has been left in its natural state, 
although it is a part of the grounds of some hotel or 
residence away above the little town. On the eastern 
bank was the Milk stream, falling in white cascades a 
thousand feet down the side to the lake. Away north 
we could see the Alpine snows near St. Gotthard, while 
on the rippling blue water near us floated by a Marechal 
Niel rose, which we secured and pressed as a souvenir. 
All along the western slopes were villas of the Milanese 
or foreigners, picturesque villages and landings, and on 
the quiet lake we saw occasional boats and steamers and 
other forms of life. 

On the western shore across from Bellagio is the villa 
Carlotta, now the property of the Duke of Sachsen- 
Meiningen. The grounds are laid off in slopes and ter- 
races, and the luxuriant flowers and trees of this clime 
make it a charming spot. One of its greatest curiosities 
is a magnolia tree, shown with great pride by the garde- 
ner, but which, though of fair diameter, is squatty and 
cannot compare with the beautiful magnolias of our 



120 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

home in Mobile. The villa possesses several artistic 
treasures. In one room is Lazzarini's thin Consul Na- 
poleon and in another a frieze relief by Thorwaldsen of 
the Triumph of Alexander, Acquisti's group of Mars 
and Venus, and several pieces by Canova, of which the 
gem is Cupid stooping over to kiss the recumbent 
Psyche. There is a duplicate of this in the Louvre, but 
the marble of that is imperfect. 

Monday after dinner we took the boat for Como. At 
some places the swift steamer landed and at others little 
boats came out to meet it. At several points the lake 
contracted. On both sides the villas became more nu- 
merous as we neared the southern end, and the views 
were always charming. Finally Ave landed at Como, 
and drove off to the railroad, getting farewell views of 
the beautiful lake from the top of our 'bus. 

Como is a place of some interest itself as the birth- 
place of the younger Pliny and of Volta, and its famous 
Gothic cathedral is worthy of inspection, but here as 
often elsewhere we had to be content to lose sights of 
lesser importance in order to have time for the greater 
ones. So we took the train for Milan and travelled 
through in about two hours, passing on the way Monza, 
where is treasured the jewelled Lombard crown, spoken 
of as the iron crown because it contains a nail of the 
true cross. Despite what was before us it was with real 
regret that we now left nature and her haunts for human 
history and the abodes of men. 



'^^ 


(^^M 


l^^_^ 




^ 


I |a € 


^T 


^^^SM^j^ 


p 


& 


^^^vOCi^f 


\^^^\mi 


s 


» 


s 


^x 


'M 


^ 


^^3^ 
^^'^^m^ 


1 ^^^UlJ 


i 


Is 


s 


^14 



CHAPTER X. 

MILAN AND ITALIAN HISTORY. 

IVA ILAN is apparently a flourishing and progressive 
* ' * modern city. Besides the cathedral it has among 
places of interest a fine picture gallery and The Last 
Supper painted by Leonardo da Vinci on the wall of the 
refectory of Sta. Maria delle Grazie, a monastery since 
suppressed and converted into barracks. 

This refectory is a long way from the Duomo square, 
the centre of interest at Milan, but the good horse car 
went on a number of lanes and avenues and so we saw 
many novel street sights on the way. After arriving we 
paid our two lire, passed through a turn-stile, and were 
ushered into the old dining hall of the monks, for this 
is preserved inviolate now. Napoleon's irreverent horses 
were stabled in this room when the floor was higher and 
kicked off the legs of the Disciples sitting at table, but 
time is making even worse havoc. The painting is in 
oils and is fading out. So marked has been the change 
in even the ten or eleven years between my own visits, 
that it is evident Leonardo's masterpiece will before long 
be but a memory. It is said the artist could never ven- 
ture fully to complete the Saviour's face, but the varia- 



122 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

tions of the countenances from divine love to satanic 
hate are Avonderful. The picture takes up the end of 
the room and had more copyists than any other we saw 
on our travels. The room was full of easels and copies 
were all about in the windows and corners. 

In the great square the white marble Duomo now 
stands free from the profane touch of other structures, 
but the tall surrounding buildings dwarf the church de- 
spite its marble terrace. Leading through them from the 
cathedral square is the lofty sculptured passage or ar- 
cade Victor Emanuel, covered with glass and lined with 
tempting shops, itself one of the wonders of the conti- 
nent. When lighted by electricity at night and thronged 
with well dressed and animated promenaders, this 
gallery, the largest in Europe, presents a sight not to be 
forgotten. 

The Duomo, in Italian Gothic style, was begun by a 
Visconti in 1386, and is the third largest in Europe. 
Gothic architecture never took strong root in Italy on 
account of the native Romanesque and classic styles, and 
from their revival in the fifteenth century the Gothic lost 
much of the hold it had acquired. Even this beautiful 
church, the most perfect specimen, has more breadth in 
proportion to height in each part and as a whole than the 
northern Gothic. It has, indeed, a low central tower, 
but not the usual spires. Without and on the roof are 
multitudes of flying buttresses, arches and minarets, and 
there are said to be two thousand statues looking, as 
Ruskin says, like angels alighting. From the roof the 
most attractive part of the panorama is to the north, 
where Mont Blanc is visible among the Alps and distant 
Monte Rosa looms up the most distinct of all. Monte 
Rosa is so hid by other ranges from the Switzerland 



MILAN AND ITALIAN HISTORY. 1 23 

side that one has to go to Italy to command a good view, 
half Swiss though the mountain be. 

Within the cathedral the effect is perfect. The nave 
is one hundred and fifty-seven feet high, the double side 
aisles somewhat lower, and with the transepts make the 
church cruciform. The arched ceiling seems to be stone 
tracery, and we were surprised to learn that it is merely 
skilful painting. The dim, religious light from the beau- 
tiful, stained glass windows, and the magnificent music 
add much to the impressiveness of the church. In the 
crypt before the high altar, visible also from above, is 
the tomb of S. Carlo Borromeo, who was Archbishop of 
Milan in the sixteenth century, deservedly loved and 
honored for his piety and goodness, particularly shown 
during a visit of the plague in 1576. 

Milan is a flourishing place of four hundred thousand 
inhabitants, ranking in Italy second to Naples in size, 
and having many wide streets and imposing buildings 
and places. It was a cisalpine town before Rome had 
subdued Italy, a great centre under the earlier Roman 
Empire and under the German substitute for the Roman 
Empire, but it was razed by Barbarossa in 1162, and, 
while it was rebuilt and has always been an important 
place, its tangible antiquities do not go much beyond 
this destruction in the middle ages. 

At Milan we thus first really touched Roman history 
and a short study of this subject will be found interest- 
ing and perhaps also useful in connection with the 
Italian journeys which follow. 

Many incidents of Roman story are familiar to us, but 
a correct understanding of the history as a whole is 
rarely met with, and yet if, as Freeman says, all ancient 
history merges in that of Rome and all modern history 



124 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

starts from it, a philosophy of Roman history is emi- 
nently desirable. We generally cease our reading with 
the close of the republican period, and yet it was under 
the empire that the world became Roman. The repub- 
lican times are the most interesting because of the free 
play and conflict of the developing human spirit, while 
under the empire it all crystallized into a vast adminis- 
trative system, whose conflicts were but struggles of 
soldiers for power. But from first to last it was one 
historical development and should be studied as such. 

Roman history, I think, has four grand divisions,- — i, 
The Republic of Rome, 2, The Empire of Rome, 3, The 
Roman Empire, and 4, The Holy Roman Empire of the 
middle ages. The first two divisions deal with rule by 
the city of Rome, at first when the city was republican 
in form and then when it was under a master, but still 
in both cases concern domination by the local city. In 
the third and fourth divisions, on the other hand, the 
rule was that of a personal sovereign, for a while by 
Roman sovereigns over the ancient territories, and then 
by Frankish and German temporal sovereigns who 
recognized the Roman Pope as a co-ordinate, spiritual 
ruler. Thus Roman history continues all through the 
middle ages, the empire becoming always more shadowy, 
it is true, but lasting in form until Francis of x\ustria in 
1806 resigned the dignity. 

The development of the city as a state was in the re- 
publican period. As soon as the first Alban settlers had 
demonstrated against neighboring nations that the little 
outpost city on the seven wooded hills was something 
that would stand and settled down themselves into 
patrician pride, their plebeian retainers and the lower 
population strove for a share of the government which 



MILAN AND ITALIAN HISTORY. 1 25 

they had helped make something to be proud of. Their 
success gave them one of the two consuls and a tribune 
who could check any unfair legislation by the senate, 
and the happy close of this civil struggle was marked by 
the erection of the Temple of Concord in the Roman 
Forum. Rome had now become the head of the Latin 
League, and the Latins next struggled, but unsuccess- 
fully, for a share in the government of the growing city, 
and yet they failed in a measure only. The third strug- 
gle Avas both civil and social. All Italy had now become 
subject and all Italy soon desired Roman rights, but be- 
sides this the rich in the city had become richer and the 
poor poorer. The Gracchi in their agrarian legislation 
sought to alleviate this friction. The rivalry of men 
brought the discontent to open war, and Marius and 
Sulla, to some extent for personal advantage, respectively 
headed the popular and senatorial sides. Julius Caesar, 
the nephew of Marius, and Cneius Pompey inherited 
these respective traditions, but Ceesar prevailed and at- 
tempted to establish a monarchy as the permanent level- 
ler of civil castes and the assurance of civil peace. 
Before these later struggles the wars of Rome had been 
directed to obtaining the supremacy in Italy and so far 
as her arms were displayed without those bounds it was 
for commercial power or to humble a dangerous neigh- 
bor, not to conquer for war's own sake. That was left 
for Sulla and those after him who desired for their own 
ends to dazzle the citizens at home with the glamor of 
military glory. Thus gradually was subdued Greece and 
Palestine and the Mediterranean made a Roman lake. 

With Csesar and his more lucky nephew, named 
Augustus by the senate, begins the second historical 
division, the Empire of Rome. Csesar aimed as a dicta- 



126 RAsMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

tor at superseding the other republican officials, and was 
assassinated. Augustus and his successors sought by 
securing the grant to themselves of the powers of these 
magistrates to preserve the republic in form, while in 
fact they were autocrats, for Imperator, whence we have 
" Emj^eror," means but a general. The early emperors 
sought to re-build the city so as to cause the people to 
forget republican days, and for this reason few of the 
old structures remain at Rome. Through the Julian 
emperors of Rome, the Italian Vespasian and his sons, 
and the provincial Antonine dynasty from Nerva and 
Trajan through Marcus Aurelius, and even under the 
anarchy of the next hundred years, relieved as it was by 
Septimius Severus and Alexander Severus, while there 
was a single head to the government, the state was still 
the city of Rome. Rome was not the capital, it was the 
state, and it was the right to vote at Rome and have the 
protection of the Roman law that was coveted and was 
gradually extended until Caracalla in a.u. 215 for pur- 
poses of taxation granted it to all the world. Men only 
gradually came to realize that world rule by one munici- 
pality was a failure. The residents and senators at Rome 
had to do all the electing, as a representative govern- 
ment had not yet been devised, but with their local limi- 
tations they were incompetent to select rulers for the 
world. In this period the external policy of the state 
changed sooner 'than the internal polity. The defensive 
growth of the republic had, as we have seen, from the 
time of the popular leaders become war for conquest, 
and this lasted with intermissions even through Trajan's 
Parthian war. But the state had now reached its growth 
and the better emperors felt that organization and not 
extension was henceforth the true policy. 



MILAN AND ITALIAN HISTORY. 12/ 

From Diocletian's accession, a.d. 284 the empire at 
large and not the city was the thought of the rulers, and 
our third historical period then began. The government 
was administered no longer under the popular and mu- 
nicipal forms, for its weight and the ambition of the 
emperors had broken down the rule by the city of Rome. 
All men had substantially equal rights, but they were 
now protected by prefects and other imperial officers, 
and the military, not the senate, were the advisers of the 
prince. The world henceforth was not ruled by Rome 
or from Rome. The capital was where the emperor was. 
Diocletian's headquarters were here at Milan, (Medio- 
lanum,) and Constantine went even further and built a 
New Rome on the Bosporus, and it was called after him. 
The momentous division of the empire into East and 
West, tentative at first and then permanent a.d. 395 under 
the sons of Theodosius, was but a clearer recognition 
of the formal needs of administration. It was now a 
universal, not a municipal state. Under the eastern 
emperor Justinian about 533 were formulated the Insti- 
tutes, Pandects and Novelise that digested the whole 
body of law, Roman in origin and still Roman in name, 
but universal now in application. The external politics 
of the empire, particularly of the now effete western 
branch, had long been defensive against the new races of 
the north, themselves pushed southward by pressure of 
Huns from central Asia. The city of Rome itself fell 
before the Herulian Odoacer in a.d. 476, and, while the 
Eastern Empire lasted a thousand years longer, in the 
Hegira a.d. 622 and the growth thence on of Islamism 
we see its doom. First came the gradual amputation of 
its provinces, whether its princes were active or feeble, 
and then, after the new and selfish natioxaalities of Europe 



128 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

had failed in the Crusades, came the capture of Con- 
stantinople itself by the Turks in a.d. 1453. 

But strange to say the Roman Empire survived the 
destruction of both its capitals and lived on through what 
is our fourth historical period. Christianity, founded 
under Tiberius, had grown at first unobserved, and then 
despite bitter persecutions. The evil emperors let it 
grow because they cared nothing for their old state re- 
ligion, while the reforming good emperors tried to crush 
out the new and inconsistent faith, driving its living ad- 
herents to dwell with its dead underground in catacombs. 
Constantine recognized the inherent divine growth of 
Christianity and made it the Roman state religion, while 
the removal of the seat of government left the bishops 
of Rome without a superior in that city and the troublous 
times of invasion that followed caused these able jjontiffs 
to assume rights and powers which successfully protected 
Romans against barbarians, but which unfortunately 
gradually led later to the temporal rule and spiritual 
supremacy of the popes. At the same time the name of 
the Empire, the many surviving facts of Roman civiliza- 
tion, the disorders of the time, and the distance and ex- 
ternal impotence of the eastern emperors, who now 
claimed universal dominion, caused a demand for the 
restoration of the old empire in some energetic western 
ruler. Pope Leo III. rose to the occasion and assumed 
as God's representative to crown on Christmas a.d. 800 
the Frankish chief whom we call Charlemagne as Roman 
Emperor instead of the woman usurper who ruled at 
Constantinople. The universal emperor was to be God's 
vice-gerent in temporal matters, and the universal pontiff 
was in this Holy Roman Empire to be God's vice-gerent 
in spiritual affairs. This dream was handed on by Charles 



MILAN AND ITALIAN HISTORY. 1 29 

to the German Othos, Henries and Fredericks who fol- 
lowed him, and by Leo to the Alexanders, Hildebrands 
and Innocents, and is the key to the middle ages. The 
theory was impossible of realization at any time, but 
doubly so when the temporal and spiritual co-vice-gerents 
were always quarrelling as to the limits of their jurisdic- 
tions, producing the strife of the Ghibelline and Guelf 
parties in Italy, if not in Germany, from the coronation 
of any emperor at Rome until his death. Oftentimes the 
emperor was at Rome only to be crowned, some were 
never there at all, and those were the best rulers indeed 
who had least to do with their nominal possessions south 
of the Alps. 

The intestine strife in Italy was in the twelfth cen- 
tury varied by the struggle of the Lombard cities like 
Milan for autonomy, against both pope and emperor, 
and then by the numerous wars of the Italian cities 
against each other, but this activity yielded during the 
following centuries in almost all cases to subjection to 
petty local princes. The extinction of freedom was 
veiled by the splendor of the arts of the Renaissance, but 
it was after all stagnation of what is best in man and 
death of all in the social system that is worth living for. 
North of the Alps the dream of a universal empire, de- 
spite the impulse given it by the re-discovery and study 
in the twelfth century of the Roman civil law, was out- 
grown as the new infusion into the old stocks and in some 
places races altogether new gradually grew up into the 
several nations of modern Europe as we know them now, 
although the imperial title lasted until extinguished by 
Napoleon and the glamour of the old name carried away 
even that iconoclast. If in the north the inevitable growth 
of race nationalities was the knell of the Roman Em- 



130 RAMBLES IM HISTORIC LANDS. 

peror, the struggle with France which led in 1309 to the 
transfer of the seat of papal government to Avignon for 
seventy years, the existence sometimes of rival popes, the 
corruption of the clergy, and finally, growing out of these, 
the Reformation of the sixteenth century and its wars 
were the knell of the Holy Pontiff in those countries 
which since have been in the van of human progress. 

Modern history so far has been the growth and unifi- 
cation of races and the mutual strife of nationalities. 
What it will be has not been revealed. But it will be, 
we may hope, the upbuilding of free and enlightened 
individual character within these nations. Nature un- 
assisted seems to aim at preservation of the type and 
race without caring for the individual, but surely intel- 
lect will modify and direct that law, as it has so many 
others, and preserve the national type under such form 
as will secure the best development of the individual. 
The end of government is protection of persons and 
property and perfecting of safeguards Avhich permit in- 
dividual competition and growth, not the assumption by 
the state of social functions and the direction of all 
human activity. If Roman and Italian history teach 
anything, it is that if the state controls from above the 
individual life stagnates below. That government is 
best which governs least. 

Milan, a flourishing place from the time of the defeat 
of the invading Cirabri and Teutons by Marius, situate 
in the country where the nobility of the early empire 
resorted, itself the seat of empire under Diocletian, has 
seen all these variations of history. It saw the Lom- 
bard conquest of North Italy. At its church of St. 
Ambrogio the Lombard kings assumed their iron crown, 



MILAN AND ITALIAN HISTORY. 131 

and in that church repose the remains of St. Ambrose, 
the fearless archbishop who shut the doors on the Em- 
peror Theodosius after his cruel massacre at Thessalonica. 
In the war of the Lombard towns for independence the 
Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa entirely de- 
stroyed the city except this revered church, and after 
the success of the league over the emperor they re- 
built Milan and the emperor dwelt there himself an hon- 
ored guest. It flourished under its dukes of the Visconti 
and Sforza families when republican freedom was dead, 
and finally became the prize sought at once by France 
and Spain, but remained with the Empire until Napoleon 
reconstructed the map of Europe. Lombardy after- 
wards lapsed again to Austria until Napoleon III. freed 
it and it became a part of the present kingdom of 
Italy. 

This Italian kingdom itself presents a curious story. 
A Burgundian family has gradually worked its way south- 
ward, voluntarily leaving its former possessions behind 
as it goes in exchange for others which it wins of more 
value, until it now rules all Italy from Rome, while its 
original Savoy and Nice are left as integral parts of 
France. 

But Milan with all the reflections to which it thus gave 
rise did not detain us long, for we had to press on to 
other places. We left one day at noon and went by rail 
to Venice without stopping. The trip was pleasant but 
had no particular incidents. At one time the road skirted 
Lake Garda, where it gave us beautiful lake and moun- 
tain scenery, while to the right there was in full view the 
monument built by Napoleon III. to commemorate his 
victory of Solferino, which liberated Lombardy from 



132 



RAMBLES JN HISTORIC LANDS. 



Austrian sway. We then passed Verona Vicenza, and 
Padua, all once Venetian and with interesting histories 
and associations, and the mountains finally drew off, the 
country gradually became low and we were in sight of 
the Venetian lagune. 




Q^^ 


s.^^^ 


^^•^ 


^%^l^ 


^ 


^^3 


^^^1^ 


^ 


^^M 


i^v_> ,JkJ^^ 



CHAPTER XI. 

VENICE. 

\ 7ENICE is reached from the main land by a pier or 
" embankment through the lagune, and over this run 
all trains into the city. As one avoids or follows the 
pertinacious porters and reaches the door of the station, 
a novel sight meets the eye. Beyond the quay is the 
lively Grand Canal, with noisy gondoliers pushing their 
picturesque black gondolas to the marble steps, some be- 
longing to hotels, some open to bargains to go anywhere, 
and across the Canal rise residences and gardens, touched, 
as we arrived, by the light of the setting sun. In this 
medley of movements, tongues and costumes, it was evi- 
dent that Lord Byron had not the railroad station to 
look from when he said that Venice was dying before his 
eyes. 

The porter of the hotel which we had selected called 
his gondolier and we stepped into the comfortable craft, 
and in a moment more were out in the stream, gliding 
quickly down the Canal towards the heart of Venice, the 
Piazza of S. Marco. The Grand Canal is shaped like 
an inverted S, the station at one end and the Doge's 
palace at the other, with the beautiful marble arch of 
the Rialto about midway between, but our gondolier 

133 



134 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

took a short cut through the narrow intersecting canals. 
He stood at the stern and pushed the single oar, which 
rests on a curved stick affixed to the side, but propelled 
the boat at a good speed, guiding it skilfully, and be- 
fore turning corners uttering a Avarning cry. Gondolas, 
like other vehicles in Italy, pass each other to the left, 
and we noticed too that rowers of all boats in Switzer- 
land and Italy generally stand looking to the bow and 
push on their oars. At the gondola prow projects an 
indented piece of metal that gauges the height of the 
bridges, and if that does not go under, the cabin will 
not. It is ornamental but thus has also a use. The 
buildings, mainly of stone or marble, rise sheer from the 
water, each generally with its steps and posts to facilitate 
landing, and as Rogers has it the salt sea-weed clings to 
the marble of the palaces. The buildings are continuous, 
the trees few. Venice has no speculators in vacant lots, 
but it has an active insurance company " Venezia," 
whose signs are all over Italy. 

Our Pension Anglaise was on the St. Mark side of 
the Grand Canal, five minutes' walk from that church. 
We had a room on the first floor, a balcony over the 
water, and, with excellent meals included, paid about 
$1.85 per day apiece. Opposite in full view was the 
beautiful dome of Sta. Maria della Salute, and a little 
further down the low Egyptian-like custom-house. One 
of the narrow passage ways that serve as streets termi- 
nated beside our hotel at a ferry and gondola station. 
The picturesque gondoliers amused us but their inces- 
sant talk finally became something of a nuisance. 

The evening of our arrival we hired a gondola for a 
franc and a half per hour and took a turn about the har- 
bor. Two large Adriatic steamers lay at anchor off the 



VENICE. 135 

Dogana and we rowed around one, and then landed at 
the Piazzetta near the great square Ducal Palace. Men 
with poles made a great show of helping moor the boat, 
all in order to claim a copper. Rachel was thirsty and 
so we went up to what looked like a portable soda water 
stand. She took aqua pura, but I tried with the water 
something the man had in a bottle. He put a few drops 
in my glass, and it tasted remarkably like paregoric. 
He charged for the pure water as well as for that he 
doctored. 

We then walked up to the adjacent square of St. 
Mark's, passing on the way between two red pillars. I 
did not know that this was considered unlucky because 
public executions were had there formerly. However, 
no harm befell us, and we reached in a moment the well 
lighted Piazza S. Marco, crowded with promenaders lis- 
tening to a military band. Here daily at two o'clock 
the numerous tame pigeons flock down from the sur- 
rounding buildings to be fed. The state cared for them 
in its palmy days but now they are dependent on private 
charity. The square is surrounded by a handsome high 
colonnade on three sides, the Procuratie, in which at- 
tractive shops display everything that may tempt travel- 
lers, from glassware and gold lions to photographs and 
coffee. The first impression of St. Mark's is not favor- 
able. It is not a high structure at best, and, as its floor 
and entrance are not raised above the level of the 
piazza, the church looks somewhat squatty. Moreover 
the high buildings surrounding are elevated by a step or 
two, and they and the majestic bell tower or Campanile 
in front tend even more to dwarf the church. 

The moon rose late during our visit and was always 
at first obscured by clouds, so that we saw only the 



136 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Grand Canal by its beams from our hotel balcony, but a 
calmer or more beautiful scene than the marble Salute 
church, the adjacent Dogana, and the dancing water 
about them, all bathed in moonlight, cannot be ima- 
gined. A band played regularly in the royal gardens 
near us, and every night serenaders went up and down 
the canal in boats hung with Chinese lanterns. These 
Venetian days and nights are like a dream of delight. 

Not that all Venice is beautiful. It is, rather, quaint 
and strange. It is built on one hundred and seventeen 
small islands separated by one hundred and fifty shallow 
canals hardly wider than the lanes passing over them on 
bridges. The many streets, or rather passages, are 
hardly more than six to ten feet wide, but one can even 
go all over the city without noticing the water. The 
bridges over the canals all arch to permit passage of 
gondolas and have side parapets. The Grand Canal, 
which is two miles long and one to two hundred feet 
wide, has two bridges for foot passengers besides the 
free Rialto, and there is, in addition to these, a railroad 
bridge over the west end to reach the large freight 
docks. The Rialto is by all odds the largest of the 
Venetian bridges. It has shops on each side, and the 
Merceria, coming from St. Mark's, the most important 
street in Venice, passes over it. We could not see the 
water for the stores and but for the ascent could easily 
imagine that we were still on land. Outside the green 
blinds of the shops there is on each side a gangway 
across, and from the dirty marble balustrade we had 
good views as far as the curves of the canal admit. This 
is a busy quarter. On each bank to the east of the 
Rialto for some distance are quays, rather unusual in 
Venice, while on one side to the west is a longer quay 



VENICE. 137 

and also the open market sheds and buildings. Vege- 
tables and fruits are brought in barge-like boats from 
the many islands of the lagune, and we found fruit good 
and cheap. 

The history of Venice is probably less generally known 
to English readers than that of any other great state, 
for the reason that Venice for many centuries came little 
in contact with northern countries. It postdates ancient 
Rome and at its greatest power was a maritime trading 
community like Phoenicia of old, with possessions on 
the Italian main land and near it, it is true, but its prin- 
cipal strongholds in Ualmatia, in Constantinople, in 
Greece, Cyprus, and other parts of the Levant, acquired 
to promote commerce rather than to gratify military 
ambition. Padua and Aquileia had been flourishing 
cities in Venetia when that was a province of the Roman 
Empire, and, on their destruction by Attila and other 
invading barbarians, many of the residents took refuge 
on the islands near the coast. The cluster of Rivoalto 
was finally adopted as the capital, and there gradually 
was built the city of Venice. It was impregnable 
against attack from land, and, as even after passing the 
fortifications on the long sand islands {lidi) which 
separate the shallow lagune from the deep sea, the 
approach to the city was possible only through narrow 
channels which could be obstructed, from the sea too 
Venice was practically safe. Its first doge was chosen 
by the people a.d. 697 and given unlimited power, but 
this constitution was gradually modified until the Great 
Council, which soon indirectly elected him, became 
really the head of the state, while from 13 10 dates the 
Council of Ten, originally a criminal court selected from 
the Great Council, and which heard and tried secret 



138 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

accusations of treason. In 829 the body of St. Mark 
was secretly purchased by some Venetian ships from the 
monks having it in custody at Alexandria, then under 
Moslem rule, and brought in great pomp to Venice, and 
the saint and his lion thenceforward became the tutelary 
guardians of the country. The basilica bearing his name 
was built over his remains, which are said to rest beneath 
the high altar. In 1177 Pope Alexander III. was driven 
from the continent by Frederick Barbarossa and was 
welcomed at Venice, which espoused his cause and con- 
quered off the Istrian coast the great fleet which acknowl- 
edged the emperor. In reward for this the pope gave 
the Venetians a ring and with it dominion over the Adri- 
atic, and yearly for centuries afterwards the ceremony 
was observed by the doges of publicly dropping a ring 
into the sea from the deck of the Bucentaur, their ship 
of state, in token of the wedding of Venice and the 
Adriatic. Barbarossa was also defeated in a battle on 
land and finally came to Venice to make his peace with 
the pope. In the portico of St. Mark's the emperor 
kneeled and the pope put his foot firmly on the prostrate 
neck. A stone even now marks the spot. 

From the crusade of 1204 in which the aged and blind 
doge Enrico Dandalo conquered Constantinople, Venice 
was long the first maritime power of Europe. Her 
eastern commerce and possessions gave an oriental bent 
to all her art, easily recognized in the bright color and 
voluptuous figures of her paintings, and in the Saracenic 
arches and tracery of her architecture, so unlike the 
Romanesque and Renaissance styles of the main land 
of Italy. The Levantine trade was long divided between 
Venice and Genoa, and rivalry caused almost unremit- 
ting warfare between these two naval states. At one 



VENICE. 139 

time the Genoese captured Chioggia, a gateway to the 
Venetian lagune, but the release of Pisani from prison, 
to which the council had sent him for losing a battle, 
and the return of Carlo Zeno in 1380 from an expedition 
to the east, enabled the Venetians in their turn to besiege 
the Genoese at Chioggia and cause them to capitulate. 
This terminated the more active hostilities between the 
two powers. The gradual acquisition of continental 
dominion by Venice, due in part to the supposed neces- 
sity of having a " scientific frontier " to protect the 
capital from attack by the growing Italian principalities, 
and culminating in the first part of the fifteenth century 
in the forced annexation of the country from Padua to 
Verona and Vicenza, involved Venice in Italian wars, 
particularly with the Milanese dukes. In the period 
from the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries the ancient free 
cities of North Italy had gradually found refuge from 
factional outbreaks and rivalries in the rule of energetic 
families, such as the Visconti and afterwards the Sforza 
at Milan, Carrara at Padua, Medici at Florence, Benti- 
vogli at Bolpgna, Gonzaga at Mantua, and Scala at 
Verona, while in Venice politics had taken a different 
turn, leading to the dominion of the Great Council, origi- 
nally open to any citizen but gradually closed to all but 
certain aristocratic families. The height of Venetian 
power was from the time of the Crusades until the dis- 
covery and use of the passage of the east round the Cape 
of Good Hope gradually provided an easier route for 
trade and also developed the great marines of Spain, 
Portugal, Holland and England. At the same time the 
capture of Constantinople by the hostile Turks and the 
consequent gradual loss of the eastern markets and pos- 
sessions co-operated to reduce the commercial import- 



140 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS, 

ance of Venice. From the beginning of the sixteenth 
century Venice politically and commercially stood still, 
but her art attained in that cenLury its greatest splendor 
under Palma Vecchio, Titian, Paolo Veronese and others. 
The league of Cambray of 1508 against her, the gradual 
losses to the Turks in the east, despite her great naval 
victory of Lepanto in 1572, and the struggles of France, 
Spain and Austria for the conquest of North Italy im- 
paired the continental power of Venice. She gradually 
went into a decline, ending finally in her capture in 1797 
by the French, when Napoleon thoroughly reformed and 
republicanized her government, but this was the first 
time that an invader's foot had trod her streets. Since 
Napoleon's fall Venice has been a part of the Austrian 
Empire, until incorporated with the present Italian 
Kingdom. 

Such architecture as the times produced from the fall 
of Rome to the eleventh century was rude but substan- 
tial. St. Mark's, built of brick faced with marble, is an 
example of this Romanesque style, but the subsequent 
ornamentation is Oriental. It is in the form of an equilat- 
eral or Greek cross, with dome over the intersection of 
the nave and transept and others at the extremities of the 
arms. The fagade is made up of a number of arches, 
and over the central one is the ancient bronze group of 
four horses. They are much travelled. Made in 
Rome under the empire to adorn some triumphal arch, 
they were taken to Constantinople by Constantine, 
brought by Dandalo to Venice, removed by Napoleon 
to Paris, and restored to Venice in 1815. Within the 
church is the entrance hall, infested by would-be guides 
and impertinent picture sellers, whom we had now learned 
to snub, and passing then behind a curtain we were in 



VENICE. 141 

the dim interior. Around are hundreds of foreign marble 
columns of all colors, many archaic and sacred mosaics 
above, and a most uneven and rolling mosaic pavement 
beneath our feet. The high altar is at the back under a 
canopy. The church is not bright or beautiful, but an 
atmosphere of quaintness fills all the place. 

Going next to the Campanile in front, we passed the 
porphyry block at the church corner from which the 
decrees of state were once proclaimed. The old square 
bell tower, standing entirely isolated, is of brick and 
rises three hundred and twenty-two feet high. The easy 
ascent within is by inclined planes, one on a side, four 
of them marking a story, and just below the top a few 
dark steps complete the ascent. From the top Galileo 
made his observations, and the general view, especially 
at sunset, is superb. We could trace the Grand Canal 
by the Casa Grande and other of its palaces, but the 
water is hid by the buildings. Venice is a long triangle, 
the shorter side and greater thickness to the west, taper- 
ing to the Arsenal at the east. The serpentine Grand 
Canal divides it into two irregular halves, the principal 
buildings being in the eastern or St. Mark division. 
South of the main city and separated from it by a canal, 
or rather an arm of the sea, is the narrow Giudecca, also 
an important if isolated part of Venice. All around the 
city is the lagune with the Venetian islands, among 
which are the cemetery and further off to the north 
Murano, famous for its glass. Far to the east is the sea, 
to the west the main land with its hills, and over all the 
rich Italian haze and color. 

Adjoining St. Mark's is the open piazzetta, on which 
faces that singular pile, the Doge's Palace, built around 
a court. The exterior from the front or from the water 



142 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

makes an uneffaceable impression.. On the ground floor 
it has a pointed arcade of heavy pillars without bases, 
above that a second yet handsomer gallery, and the high 
reddish facade above all, broken by a balcony and win- 
dows on each side, terminates in battlements. From 
between two red pillars in the upper gallery were read 
sentences of death, carried out between the two Oriental 
columns of the landing. One of these is crowned with 
the winged lion of St. Mark and the other by St. Theo- 
dore on a crocodile. 

Entering by an archway near the church, we found 
two cisterns and around the palace court arcades. Op- 
posite the entrance is the commanding Giant's Stairway, 
so named from Mars and Neptune at the top. The 
arrangement of the interior of the Doge's Palace is be- 
wildering. As I understood it, on the first floor shown 
is the hall of the Great Council, the hall for the elec- 
tion of the doge by the forty chosen from that council, 
and the residence apartments of the doge himself, — the 
last now a museum. The whole of one end of the Great 
Council hall is taken up by Tintoretto's Paradise, an 
enormous oil painting, the largest in the world, and on 
the other walls are exploits of Doge Ziani against Barba- 
rossa, and of Dandalo at Constantinople. For a frieze 
in this and the voting room are the portraits of one hun- 
dred and fifteen doges, but the place for Marino Faliero 
is painted out by a black curtain on which is recorded 
that he was decapitated for his crimes. This happened 
in 1355 when the conspiracy of this doge to overthrow 
the oligarchy and establish himself as an unfettered prince 
was discovered and punished by hanging the inferior 
plotters between the two columns and by beheading the 
doge on the Giant's Stairway, where he had taken the 



VENICE. 143 

oath of office, and his head Avas then pubHcly exhibited 
from the gallery of the ducal palace. 

On the floor above were the official apartments. ~&y 
the stairway is the hole, formerly ornamented by a lion's 
mouth, into which secret accusations were cast for con- 
sideration of the Three Inquisitors, the executive com- 
mittee of the black Council of Ten, instituted in the 
fifteenth century. The Three, the Ten and other 
officials had offices on this floor, and the rooms are very 
handsome. As in the apartments below, while most of 
the historical pictures are on the walls, many beautiful 
allegorical paintings are framed to the ceiling, and we 
had to strain our necks to see them. Plans are furnished, 
in the shape sometimes of paper fans, for the better 
study of the collections and are absolutely essential. 

With a very practical view of matters of state, they 
had on the ground floor, beneath all these apartments of 
beauty, the Pozzi, the unlighted stone prison cells. We 
were shown by candle light where Marino Faliero was 
imprisoned, a bare cell with an opening in the wall for 
receiving food. In the passage way are three holes in 
the stone floor for the blood of beheaded victims to flow 
into a canal, and the bodies were thrown out into the 
water. The Piombi, or cells under the leads of the 
palace, were destroyed by Napoleon, who also walled up 
one of the two passages of the Bridge of Sighs leading 
across this canal from the prisons on the other side to 
the judgment halls in the Doge's Palace. We were told 
that few prisoners had ever passed through the present 
bridge, " a palace and a prison on each hand," but in 
this palace and in these prisons was the centre of Vene- 
tian secrecy, craft and cruelty, and the ghosts of the 
murdered dead will down at no man's bidding. Here in 



144 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

the Pozzi was confined the great general Carmagnuola 
in 1432, enticed home by fraud. He expiated his alleged 
treason at Cremona by decapitation between the Two 
Columns and was buried in the Frari church. In these 
cells, too, in 1406 perished by the bowstring Carrara, 
prince of Padua, and his two sons. Carrara had come 
to Venice under a safe conduct to treat for peace after 
the conquest of his country by the Venetians, and when 
treacherously thrown into prison with one son found 
another there, and together they fought the executioners 
in their cell until overpowered by numbers. If these 
prisons could tell the horrors of the secret rule of The 
Ten it would hardly be equalled in the world's history 
for perfidy and cruelty. Treachery was its vital breath 
and assassination its right hand. 

At the eastern extremity of Venice is the Arsenal 
which built the fleets that conquered the Mediterranean 
from Genoa to Constantinople, and at which, as in 
Athens, in disastrous days when the state treasury was 
bankrupt, the liberality and patriotism of private citizens 
equipped ships for the public use. The spacious docks 
although quiet are not even now deserted. In front of 
the square red entrance towers of the Arsenal sit four 
stiff marble lions brought from Attica, and in the museum 
are many models of ships, from the high, gilded Bucen- 
taur, burned by the French, down to modern screw 
propellers. I saw the huge triangular flag captured from 
the Turks at the battle of Lepanto, lifted the heavy 
visored helmet of Attila, and saw the iron one worn by 
his horse. 

Of the many churches the most interesting are those 
of Giovanni and Paolo, near the north edge of the city, 
and the Frari, in the great bend south of the Grand 



VENICE. 145 

Canal. The former is spacious and lofty, containing the 
handsome tombs of doges and also monuments to other 
famous men, and in a fire here was destroyed Titian's 
celebrated painting of the Martyrdom of Peter. Across 
the Grand Canal and adjoining the great collection of 
Venetian archives is the large Frari church, much more 
attractive within than without. It, too, is the burial 
place of doges and eminent men. It is particularly 
famous for Titian's painting known as the Pesaro Ma- 
donna, representing a vision of the Mother and Child by 
the Pesaro family, for the large monument over the 
grave of Titian, erected by the Emperor Ferdinand I. in 
this century, which represents a triumphal arch deco- 
rated by reliefs of his more celebrated paintings ; and 
there, too, is the incomparable mausoleum of Canova, 
erected after the great sculptor's death in 1822 from the 
design which he had made for Titian's monument. It 
represents a marble sepulchral pyramid, into the open 
door of which a veiled woman, bearing the cinerary urn, 
is about to enter. Behind her are several weeping 
figures, of exceeding grace, and on the other side of the 
door crouches St. Mark's winged lion. Beside the lion 
is seated a mourning genius, his extinguished torch in- 
verted. Canova is buried, however, on the Venetian 
main land at Passagno, his native place, but his right 
hand is in a porphyry urn at the Academy, and beneath 
it is his chisel. 

At the next steamboat landing below the Frari and 
on the same side is the Academy, where the prevailing 
characteristics are good drawing and bright colors. 
Among the most famous pictures are Titian's beautiful 
Assumption (Ascension) of the Virgin, and the Pieta 
or Entombment which he left unfinished at his death 



146 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

1576, in his ninety-ninth year. The striking Entomb- 
ment is in rude, bold and almost colorless strokes. 

I returned from here in one of the swift little steamers 
which regularly ply the length of the Grand Canal at ten 
centessimi the trip. They go too fast for one to appre- 
ciate the palaces, and we therefore made the slower 
voyage by gondola several times. 

One morning we regretfully loaded up one of these 
vehicles with satchels, bundles and ourselves in travelling 
costume, and directed our course to the station, making 
a farewell study of the Grand Canal as we went along. 
The buildings are generally in the Renaissance style, 
many with oriental arches or ornamentation, and some 
with gilt or paintings on the facades. In these lived the 
Foscari, Contarini, Pisani, Dandoli, Bembi, Manin and 
other noble families of Venice, and there staid also at 
times such noted foreigners as Lucretia Borgia, Byron, 
Wagner and Browning, and among them too are the 
mediaeval warehouse buildings of the Germans and 
Turks, but many of them are now used for hotels or 
public purposes. Anxious to see Shylock at home, we 
went to the Ghetto or Jewish quarter, reached from the 
Grand Canal by a large cross artery near the station. 
We entered under an arched gateway and walked through. 
It looked like the rest of Venice. All about were dirty 
children, working women, and officious men who wanted 
to help land the gondola or act as guides, — for a con- 
sideration, — watching us with as much curiosity as we 
did them. One old woman carrying a bucket of water 
amused us by exclaiming " Bella, bella ! " as she saw 
Rachel. Such is the avidity for small coin among the 
lower classes, however, that we were not certain but that 



VENICE. 147 

pay was expected for even this deserved compliment. 
But we did not find a satisfactory Shylock. 

Then came the bustle of the railroad and the fading 
away of the city as we crossed through the lagune to the 
main land. With a sigh as the straining eyes lost sight 
of Venice, we put our satchels in the large racks above 
our heads, settled back in the comfortable second class 
compartment to talk over our visit, and to study up for 
Florence. 

On the way near Ferrara we went over the Po where 
it flows between embankments high above the adjacent 
country, and after passing Bologna were among the 
Apennines. There we had a most deafening and 
choking series of long tunnels, forty in three hours, 
I think, although the views which we did get between, 
especially from Pistoia on, were of pleasing valley 
scenery, almost as grateful to the bewildered eye as the 
Venetian waters. 




CHAPTER XII. 



FLORENCE AND ART. 



Al/E arrived in Florence late on Saturday afternoon 
' ^ August 29th with only seven lire in pocket to last 
two people until banks opened on Monday. We had 
selected as our stopping place the small Hotel de 
Londres opposite the imposing but prison-like Palazzo 
Strozzi, and were chagrined to find, that, while we could 
get a comfortable room and morning coffee at four 
lire a day for each, our hotel did not open its regular 
restaurant until September ist. The poriier^ — that im- 
portant official who everywhere speaks all languages, 
knows everything, and is general outside manager of 
hotel business, — recommended a restaurant underneath, 
but we discovered that the prices there were so large as 
to admit of division between its proprietor and our 
po7-tier, with fair profit to each. We therefore started 
out on Sunday to find a restaurant. After eying 
several we came across the best one of our travels. It 
was in a back street behind S. Maria Maggiore, and I 
think was named Restaurant National. There for two 
and a quarter lire we had a first-rate supper in a garden 
under electric light, with statues and inquisitive people 

148 



FLORENCE AND ART. 149 

about us, and a band in a gallery above affording 
delightful music. For breakfast the next day we took 
eggs, bread and butter at the hotel. After a luxurious 
dinner at our restaurant of soup, steak and potatoes, 
fruits and wine for three and a half lire, we had but one 
lira left, and so as a matter of necessity that night we 
made a supper of eggs, bread and butter again on our 
hotel credit. We were much relieved when I drew next 
day at Cook's Tourist Office near by my usual weekly 
six pounds in the shape of one hundred and fifty-two 
lire. After this Sunday of pecuniary anxiety and phy- 
sical rest we could now begin sight-seeing again. 

The Arno runs through Florence from south-east to 
north-west, dividing it into two unequal parts. The 
long Pitti Palace in rustica or undressed stone and the 
high Piazza Michael Angelo with its beautiful view are 
on the south side of the river, but all other principal 
objects of interest are in the older part to the north. 
There are a number of bridges across the deceptive 
Arno, of which the oldest is the Ponte Vecchio, the 
handsomest the San Spirito. The streets of the old 
quarter run perpendicularly to the Lungarno, a highway 
along the river bank, or as cross streets are roughly 
parallel with it. In every mediaeval town the cathedral 
was the most important of all buildings, and as the chief 
place of interest and resort was near the centre. Here, 
too, the Duomo is near the heart of the city and the 
other attractions seem to radiate from it. North of it is 
S. Lorenzo and its chapels, off to the north-west near the 
station is Sta. Maria Novella, west in the suburbs is the 
pleasant Cascine, a park on the river, south-east is Sta. 
Croce with its famous tombs, and south near the river is 
the Piazza Signoria, on which face the castellated 



150 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Palazzo Vecchio, the Uffizi with its picture galleries, and 
the open Loggia dei Lanzi full of sculptures. 

Florence dates back to a Roman settlement made by 
Sulla's soldiers. Rebuilt by Charlemagne, early in the 
middle ages its enterprise and commerce soon made it a 
place of note. The strife of papist Guelf and imperialist 
Ghibelline, who became feudal Neri and popular Bianchi 
after the old contest of pope and emperor died away, 
long divided the citizens, but Florence was essentially 
Guelf while that name meant anything. The civil dis- 
sension resulted for one thing in the perpetual banish- 
ment of her great citizen Dante, one of the Bianchi. The 
commercial standing of Florence is shown by the fact 
that her florin, first coined in 1252, became the standard 
for Europe and even now gives the name to coins in 
England and Austria. The guilds of tradesmen came in 
1282 to rule the state through their respective priori or 
presidents, and soon established the executive office 
of gonfaloniere di giustizia, who became president of 
the priori, collectively known as the Signoria. Later 
came the rivalry of the middle class families who had 
become wealthy through trade and succeeded to the in- 
fluence of the old nobility, which had died out in the 
medieval wars. The Albizzi, the stern Capponi and the 
rich bankers Medici were now prominent. The Medici, 
coming in 1426 to the head of affairs, ruled off and on 
for three centuries, first as popular leaders and later as 
dukes, but with intervals of banishment. At first, how- 
ever, they did not disturb the republican forms. Lorenzo 
the Magnificent died 1492, some months before Columbus 
started on his adventurous voyage, as Florence was en- 
joying a splendid age of art, which boasted of Leonardo, 
Michael Angelo, Raphael and others. Lorenzo in his 



FLORENCE AND ART. 151 

lifetime surrounded himself by a circle of literary men 
and classical students, comprising Polizian, Ficino, 
Mirandola and the like, the pride of their age, while not 
long after him flourished the statesman Macchiavelli and 
the historian Guicciardini. Politically little power was 
left to the people, but the old spirit was only slumbering, 
and they revolted from Medicean timidity at the time of 
Charles VIII's invasion from France, and for a while 
enjoyed a republic again under their Gonfaloniere Sode- 
rini, and followed and then burned their prophet 
Savonarola, prior of S. Marco. This tragedy occurred 
before the Palazzo Vecchio, built 1298 by Arnolfo, en- 
larged by Savonarola himself, and always the seat of 
government In the time of the Medici popes Leo X. 
and Clement VII. Florence came more and more subject 
to that family, and as grand dukes of Tuscany from 1530 
its members ruled until the line ran out two centuries 
later and Francis of Lorraine, husband of Maria Theresa, 
was by the Pragmatic Sanction awarded the crown. 
With some intermissions it remained with the Austrians 
until the struggle for Italian independence in this century. 
Lately Florence was temporarily the capital of Italy, for 
the Italian Parliament sat in the Palazzo Vecchio from 
1865 to 1870, and during that time the city bankrupted 
itself in public works. Florence is still an important city 
and pleasant resort, but its energy has flagged and its 
grandeur is principally to be found in the remains of the 
past. 

The narrow winding streets present interesting sights. 
There are many handsome buildings, mainly churches, 
but the most original works of Florentine architects 
are the fortress-like castles in rough stone. The tall 
square municipal building — Palazzo Vecchio in the 



152 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Piazza Signoria — has a tower three hundred and eight 
feet high, and the vast Pitti Palace, built by Brunelleschi 
for Pitti, who wished to outdo the splendor of the Medici^ 
fell at last into possession of the Medici themselves and 
is now a royal residence. The palaces show how turbu- 
lent the times were to require such strongholds. 

The cathedral square contains the Duomo, Campanile 
and Baptistery, and with these we reach specimens of 
Gothic architecture hardly equalled elsewhere in Italy. 
The Gothic is a style of large, high windows as well as 
arches, for the northern skies are not clear and all the 
light available is essential. In Italy the Gothic influences 
details, but the ground work of churches is still the old 
Roman basilica, with small windows and large blank wall 
spaces, because the bright Italian sun needed rather to 
be excluded than invited, and the Florence cathedral 
follows this obvious and proper departure from the 
northern style. Again, in the north the belfry steeples 
are at the front and with the portals make up one grand 
fa9ade, while in Italy the separate bell tower (campanile) 
of Romanesque times is preserved, and the dome over 
the intersection of nave and transepts instead of the spire 
absorbs the attention of the architect. Greek styles laid 
stress on columns and horizontal lines, and so too the 
Roman except so far as the round arch came also into 
play, while the Romanesque emphasized the round arch, 
and the Byzantine the dome. All of these tendencies, 
domesticated in Italy, modified there the nature of the 
Gothic style, which in its purity soars heavenward with 
arch, buttress and spire. 

The Florentine cathedral was almost two centuries in 
building, being designed and begun by Arnolfo in 1294 
on the site of a church of Sta. Raparata, an old patron 



FLORENCE AND ART. 1 53 

saint of the city, who once appeared with a lily and aided 
the Florentines in battle. Thence they derived the lily 
for their coat of arms. Giotto carried on the cathedral 
work after Arnolfo, building the graceful square cam- 
panile also. For a long time it was supposed the space 
was too great to vault, as up to that time only the ancient 
Pantheon excelled this diameter of one hundred and 
thirty-eight feet, but in the year 1418 Brunelleschi's com- 
petitive design was accepted and he began the construc- 
tion of the great cupola, and it required fourteen years 
to complete the work. The handsome facade has been 
finished only in our own day. 

Externally the panelled green, white and red marble 
of the cathedral and light four-story belfry produces a 
beautiful effect, but it must be confessed that the interi- 
or of the church is bare and disappointing. The Milan 
cathedral within looks far more imposing, while even the 
lower Dom at Cologne seems higher. 

The adjacent campanile is two hundred and ninety- 
two feet, and Giotto, who built it in the fourteenth cen- 
tury, designed surmounting it with a spire one hundred 
feet higher. The windows, tracery and statues make 
up an artistic whole, contributed to by Giotto, Pisano, 
Donatello, Robbia and others. Charles V. said that the 
campanile was so beautiful that it ought to be kept in a 
glass case, and in our own day Ruskin pronounces it the 
only perfect combination of power and beauty. 

The Baptistery opposite it dates from iioo a.d., and 
is built possibly on the foundation of a temple of Mars 
and copied from the Pantheon. A beautiful, domed 
building itself, it is yet more famous in the history of 
sculpture for its three bronze doors covered with figures. 
That on the south by Andrea Pisano goes back to 1330 



154 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

and the reliefs represent among other things scenes 
from the life of John the Baptist. Niccola Pisano at 
Pisa had before anyone else caught the inspiration of 
ancient statuary and by his pulpits and sculpture burst 
mediaeval trammels, begun the Renaissance of art, and 
indeed fixed its course. Of his school was this Andrea, 
who had come to Florence to work with Giotto on the 
campanile. The other doors date from the first half of 
the fifteenth century and were the forty-nine years' work 
of Ghiberti. The one facing the cathedral is considered 
the finest of all, and pictures scenes from the Old Testa- 
ment in varying relief, with the perfect perspective of 
painting itself. Michael Angelo considered this exquisite 
portal worthy of forming the entrance to Paradise. 

Two unsuccessful competitors of Ghiberti for the 
completion of these gates became famous, — Brunelleschi 
as an architect, and Donatello, the sculptor. Contempo- 
rary with them was Lucca della Robbia, whose sculp- 
tures ornament parts of the cathedral and who has given 
his name to relief scenes in glazed earthenware and 
friezes in houses, churches and palaces throughout Italy. 
Sansovino sculptured the group of John baptizing Christ 
now above one of the Baptistery doors, and somewhat 
younger was Verrocchio, whose greatest title to fame was 
that he was the teacher of Leonardo and Michael An- 
gelo, both of whom were great painters as well as great 
sculptors. 

Ancient paintings may or may not have been in oils, a 
point upon which critics are divided, but except a few 
on the walls of provincial Pompeii none of any kind 
have survived. In the Eastern Empire despite icono- 
clasm sacred subjects continued to be painted, but it sank 
to be as lifeless an art as in Egypt under the rule of the 



FLORENCE AND ART. I 55 

old priests. Possibly through the Crusades, these eastern 
pictures may have contributed to the revival of art in 
Italy, but Cimabue just before the fourteenth century all 
but re-discovered painting at Assisi and Florence, and 
his Madonna, followed in a procession by acclaiming 
thousands, is still preserved in the interesting old Flor- 
entine church of Sta. Maria Novella, and, stiff as it 
seems to us, it marked a new era. At first art was but 
the handmaid of devotion, and church decoration was 
long the peculiar domain of painting. The Crucifixion, 
the Madonna and local saints painted on the walls or 
on wood or canvas to place above altars were its ear- 
liest subjects. Giotto, sculptor and painter, followed 
Cimabue, and then early in the fifteenth century 
Masolino and Masaccio worked with a greater freedom 
of design and touch on the frescoes of the Brancacci 
chapel, illustrating the legends of the Apostles in a way 
that marked a transition to an age which should treat art 
as a thing apart from religion, her sister, but honored for 
her own sake. 

Gentle Fra Angelico (1387-1455) in his monastery of 
San Marco painted famous frescoes and Ghirlandajo was 
also well known at Florence in the fifteenth century, 
while art had become so diffused that at the same time 
Mantegna (1431-1506) flourished at Mantua, Bellini 
(1426-15 16) at Venice, and Perugino, the master of the 
more famous Raphael, worked on pious themes at Peru- 
gia. Leonardo (1452-15 19) was Tuscan and resided 
longer in Florence than at either Milan or Rome. He 
painted his cavalry battle for the Palazzo Vecchio at the 
same time that the younger Michael Angelo made for 
the same hall the picture of bathing Florentine soldiers 
surprised by Pisans. Both of these masterpieces have 



156 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

perished, but they drew many artists to Florence, Raph- 
ael, (1483-1520,) for one, and here he gradually changed 
his religious Umbrian style to one more human and 
modern. He was afterwards at Rome under the patron- 
age of Leo X. and his wall paintings and some of his best 
easel pictures were painted there. He left scholars, 
among whom Avere Giulio Romano and Caravaggio. 
Contemporary at Florence were Bartolommeo and An- 
drea del Sarto and at Siena Sodoma. 

The sack of Rome in 1527 by Charles V. dispersed its 
artists, while in north Italy art lasted longer. At Bologna 
was Bagnacavallo, at Parma Correggio, and at Venice, the 
home of color, after Bellini and Giorgione came the long- 
lived Titian, (1477-1576,) the greatest of her school, who 
painted serene madonnas and seductive Venuses with 
equal relish and facility. After Titian Venice produced 
only Tintoretto and Paul Veronese, and indeed art in all 
Italy retrograded. Yet on the main land it lived long, 
and even in the seventeenth century we find at Bologna 
the Caracci, Domenichino and Guido Reni, and at Flor- 
ence that painter of lilies and sweet faces, Carlo Dolce, 
and at Naples the master of landscape, Salvator Rosa. 

The fame and students of the works of the greater 
Italians soon naturalized art all over Europe, and each 
country now developed in turn some peculiarities of 
style. Transalpine art woke first in the Netherlands. In 
Flanders the brothers Van Eyck had indeed early in- 
ventedoil painting, but the country found its most famous 
master centuries later in Rubens, (1577-1640,) the pro- 
lific painter of women as well as of famous altar pieces. 
Of his school were Jordaens and Teniers,who struck out 
further in the path of representing secular affairs and 
excelled in pictures of every-day life, called genre. Hoi- 



FLORENCE AND ART. 1 5/ 

land had been more successful than Flanders in revolt 
against bigoted Spain and her painting departed even 
further from the old ecclesiastical models in the direction 
of portraying common life. Rembrandt (1607-1669) 
was its greatest painter and contrasts superbly his 
principal figures with surrounding shade. Gerard Dow 
was his pupil and Ruysdael paints landscapes that seem 
almost unlike Holland, but later artists waste the same 
ingenuity and finish on still life and common objects 
worthy only of the walls of a restaurant. 

In Germany Hans Holbein (1498-1554) at Augsburg 
was influenced from Italy and painted equally well ma- 
donnas and portraits, while earlier Albrecht Diirer (147 1— 
1528) nearby at busy Nuremberg represented religious 
subjects both before and after his life in Venice under 
Bellini. The Cranachs were friends of Luther, but from 
then until lately painting did not flourish in that war- 
distracted country. In Cornelius and Kaulbach of this 
century we must recognize fine academic artists, although 
they aspire to greater things than they can accomplish. 

In France Poussin (1594-1665) was famous for land- 
scapes, but he was surpassed by Claude Lorraine, (1600— 
1682,) who, however, lived mainly at Rome. After him 
graceful Watteau painted \\\^ fetes chanipetres of the Re- 
gency, and art died in rococo styles. A revival of classic 
painting in France dates from David at the beginning of 
this century. Present French art is occupied too much 
with sensuous female figures, but Millet's Angelusand the 
Vernets, Delaroche, Bonheur and yet others with good 
aims are not far in the past. Spain's brief artistic life 
produced Ribera, in the seventeenth century Velasquez, 
famous for his portraits, and Murillo, the painter of street 
sights. 



158 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Although the portraits by Kneller and Reynolds, 
Hogarth's cartoons, Landseer's animals, and later Tur- 
ner's magnificent landscape coloring are familiar to us, 
English artists are not well represented in continental 
galleries, while American art is so far almost conspicuous 
by its absence. 

At Florence one finds almost all schools, but princi- 
pally, of course, those of Italy. We went first to the 
Uffizi gallery near the Piazza Signoria, on the top floor 
of the offices of the municipalit}^, — Avhence the name. 
A long covered way across the Arno connects it with 
the famous collection on the top floor of the Pitti palace, 
and at both places we regretted that elevators had not 
come into more general use. The Ufflzi building has 
little pretension to beauty. The collections are on two 
sides of a court or short street, the parts connected at 
the river end by a corridor of ancient sculpture. The 
east arm contains the main collection. The pictures 
are classified according to countries, except that a small 
octagonal room in the centre, the Tribune, has some of 
the principal treasures all together. 

In the Tribune are fine pieces of ancient statuary, — a 
Satyr playing on cymbals, the Wrestlers, a Scythian 
grinding his knife to flay Marsyas, a young Apollo, and 
the Venus de Medici, found at Rome in the sixteenth 
century and brought to Florence in 1680, the most 
famous of all. She stands within a shield-shaped rail- 
ing, the model figure and yet under the usual female 
size. Her attitude is as if frightened while bathing and 
she conceals herself with her hands as best she can, 
although very inadequately from the point towards 
which she looks, her wrists gracefully bent and her fin- 
gers daintily separated. Around the head is a fillet, her 



FLORENCE AND ART. 159 

hair in a Grecian knot, but the hair and eyes are not 
now clean cut, probably from earth corrosion, and this 
gives her perhaps a somewhat sleepy look, redeemed 
partly by a pretty dimple in her chin. The marble is 
no longer white and the statue, broken in several places, 
has been patched, but so skilfully as to be hardly no- 
ticeable. The goddess breathes in stone and is so fasci- 
nating that one can hardly blame the poet Rogers for 
sitting day after day admiring the figure. One time they 
say a note was found in her hand addressed to him, re- 
questing him to quit ogling her. 

Raphael's Fornarina in the Tribune (his Roman mis- 
tress) is a sensuous but imposing Italian woman, and his 
St. John is a very youthful though handsome preacher, 
pointing to a cross. His Madonna Cardinellino looks 
with a dreamy smile down at little John girt in a skin, 
as he holds out to the infant Jesus on the other side of 
Mary's knee a goldfinch, which that solemn child 
strokes. Diirer's Adoration of the Magi is an early 
work, and the positions of some of his wise men were 
ridiculous ; one was a carpet bagger. In a room left 
from the Tribune Sodoma has a fine St. Sebastian shot 
through by arrows and about receiving on his beautiful 
head the crown of martyrdom, and Caravaggio and Le- 
onardo have each a horrible, snaky head of Medusa 
spoutiiig blood. 

In the western branch of the palace is a bust of Dante 
taken from his death mask of 132 1, giving him, as might 
be expected, a very hooked nose and thin face. The 
Niobe group there is much more extensive than we had 
thought. Niobe herself and some of the other figures 
are over life size, and the noble and appealing look on 
her face and her attempt to shield her kneeling daugh- 



l6o RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

ter from the arrows is very touching. The statues were 
found outside a gate at Rome and probably constituted 
the pediment of a temple of Apollo, but the actual 
arrangement of the group is entirely conjectural. It is 
said to be a copy of the original work by Praxiteles. On 
the Niobe side of the Ufhzi was Titian's mild looking 
Flora, and in the famous gallery of self portraits near by 
was jaunty Rubens in his big hat, long bearded Da Vinci, 
and many others. Van Dyck in this collection was a 
dashing bright young fellow with moustache and goatee. 
Dolce was somewhat old and meek, with black moustache, 
and held a comic picture of a man with eyeglasses. 
Salvator Rosa was a clean-shaved, wild haired but 
good-natured man, and sickly Guido Reni had on 
a broad-brimmed hat. Del Sarto was fat and stern, 
his face clean shaved, while Titian was a kind, healthy 
gentleman with full beard. This collection upset 
many of our mental portraits of what the painters ought 
to resemble. 

The Pitti gallery across the river contains some 
statuary and only about three hundred paintings, but 
many of these are " gems of purest ray " and the beauti- 
fully decorated rooms are a worthy setting. There are 
also in the saloons many fine mosaic tables, representing 
sometimes Roman ruins. The government has a mosaic 
manufactory in Florence, whose beautiful products are 
more fully exhibited near the Academy. Church deco- 
ration and sacred paintings were the great field of the 
old masters, and Raphael painted so many Madonnas 
that they have to be distinguished by some little pecu- 
liarity. The one in the Tribune is called " Cardinellino " 
from the goldfinch in it, one in the Pitti " Seggiola " 
from the chair, and so on. His Madonna del Granduca 



FLORENCE AND ART. l6l 

in the Pitti is the blonde he generally makes his Virgins 
and has the same softness and gentleness, but in some 
way all are sad and thoughtful. His Madonna della 
Seggiola, seated with Jesus in her arms and John at her 
knee, has a more oriental look than the others, and to 
my mind it ranks next to the Sistine Madonna. It is 
said to have been engraved more than any other picture 
whatever. His fat Leo X., and bearded, thoughtful 
Julius II. were excellently done, and not at all what we 
had expected these men would look like. Murillo's 
famed Madonna disappointed us in several respects ; for 
one thing the chin is disproportionately small. Titian's 
Bella had a Jewish cast, an imposing bearing, and ap- 
peared well in her rich purple dress, but in herself did 
not strike me as beautiful at all, — she was " stylish '' 
rather, — and he had a voluptuous looking Magdalene that 
did not appear very repentant. Guido's Cleopatra was not 
unlike Titian's Uffizi Flora. Both were well conditioned, 
but there was a lurking expression at least to Flora's 
face that reminded me of the mumps. We tried to find 
the secret of Salvator Rosa's landscapes. He almost 
always brings in rocks, sometimes shipping, and gives 
every play of light and shade in rocky crevice and on 
mossy surface. His background is a hazy, greenish 
blue in which things gradually become indistinct. 
Poussin is far inferior. His background does not haze 
off so nicely and his houses and castles are conventional. 
Rubens loved to draw the female form, but the women 
are generally somewhat too stout, — so of his Train of 
War, of his Venus and Mars in the Tribune, and so 
throughout all these collections. That came, I suppose, 
from his Flemish models. We were much struck by see- 
ing good landscapes by such humanity painters as Rubens 



1 62 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

and Domenichino, excellent pictures, too. This is said, 
indeed, to have been Rubens' favorite branch of art. 
There are several beautiful pieces of modern statuary 
also in the Pitti of which the most famous is Canova's 
marble Venus, pressing a garment against her bosom, 
seeming to anticipate intrusion. It is a thing of grace, 
about life size, but the garment conceals too much of the 
form. Almost as fine is Consani's seated marble Fame, 
writing on a shield which she holds with her right hand. 

These galleries have not many of Michael Angelo's 
paintings. I recall principally his three hag-like Fates, 
more famous than pleasing. But Florence contains some 
of the finest sculptures of this great genius. Michael 
Angelo was born at Arezzo 1475 ^^d died 1563, the 
greatest architect, sculptor, and perhaps painter of his 
age. His house in Florence is still shown. With him 
the art of sculpture reaches its summit. In Florence at 
the Academy is his spirited and gigantic David, made of 
one block which had been partly used years before by 
another and abandoned as inadequate, and which even 
Leonardo da Vinci had refused to go on with. The 
youth stands erect in the rotunda, holding the long sling 
over his shoulder, an end in each hand. His head 
however, seemed, perhaps too large. 

Even more famous are the unfinished figures on the 
tombs of two younger Medici in the New Sacristy of S. 
Lorenzo, carved in the fulness of Michael Angelo's fame 
and after his period of artistic activity at Rome. The 
interior of the Sacristy is of black and white marble in 
Corinthian style. To the right is the tomb of Julian, his 
alert figure above in a niche and under him lying on 
marble pallets on the sarcophagus are Night, personified 
by a middle-aged woman with crescent on her brow. 
Day, a man, like the woman in a very uncomfortable 



FLORENCE AND ART. 1 63 

position and both surely meant only to prove Michael 
Angelo's knowledge of human muscles. Day is still in 
the rough, Night in general finished except a foot. 
Opposite is young Lorenzo sitting in thought, II pensiero. 
Below him to the left is Dawn, a man half recumbent, 
and Twilight, a younger woman, — the woman as before 
more nearly completed. The allegory is hard to under- 
stand but the figures are magnificent. Near is the later 
Medicean Chapel for the ducal family, with make-be- 
lieve sarcophagi on its four sides and corners, the tombs 
and walls being of richly colored marble. In the vault 
below by which one enters are the actual graves of these 
later Medici. In handsomely restored S. Lorenzo near 
by at the foot of the altar is the grave of Cosmo, who 
died 1464 " Pater Patriae," as the inscription says. 

In the Loggia dei Lanzi we saw among other works 
some later Florentine sculptures. This open Gothic 
colonnade, once a guard room, is itself a thing of beauty, 
and the statuary is a public school of art to all who pass 
on pleasure or business through the busy Piazza Sig- 
noria. There we saw an ancient Ajax supporting dying 
Achilles, and Donatello's bronze Judith slaying Holofer- 
nes, vigorous indeed if stiff. This was originally erected 
as a public warning in front of the Palazzo Vecchio on 
the expulsion of the Medici. There are also a number 
of other celebrated pieces of statuary, and amongst them 
a bronze Perseus holding up the dripping Medusa head, 
while the body is in a most remarkably and impossibly 
twisted state, the work 1553 of Benvenuto Cellini. Be- 
hind is Fedi's recent and beautiful group, the Rape of 
Polyxena, — in which with his left arm the warrior holds 
the maiden, with the sword strikes at the mother grasp- 
ing for the girl, while at his foot lies a dead man cut on 
the head. 



164 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

In the niches of .the Uffizi portico are also recent 
statues, inside Cosmo and thoughtful Lorenzo, shaved 
clean but with long hair, while outside are Giotto in a 
monk's cowl, snub-nosed Michael Angelo, Petrarch in a 
mumps bandage, Boccaccio not dissimilar, Macchiavelli 
thin and meek, Leonardo with beard and long locks, our 
own Amerigo Vespucci, a fine looking, slim old gentle- 
man with side whiskers. On the other side of the street 
stands bearded Benvenuto Cellini, besides many others. 

We walked one day towards the end of our stay at 
Florence down past the Palazzo Vecchio eastwardly to 
the church of Santa Croce. In front of it is a favorite 
piazza with benches, and in the midst of this stands 
Dante's white marble monument by the sculptor Pazzi, 
placed here in 1865 on the six hundredth anniversary of 
the poet's birth. The sad faced Dante is drawing his 
robe around him very much as if like ourselves he was 
about to depart from Florence. He guards the approach 
to Santa Croce, which has an imposing Gothic fapade of 
black and white marble, but the remainder of this 
modern Pantheon is of rough brick as yet unencrusted. 
Arnolfo designed the church for the Franciscans and 
Michael Angelo worked on its front. Within, its high 
nave is separated by columns from the aisles, and the 
whole interior has a rich effect. Along the side walls, 
which are also of black and white marble, are placed 
handsome monuments of celebrated men, the peculiar 
glory of the church, but after all they are much alike, 
being generally a marble sarcophagus, with bust on top 
and allegorical figures near. First on the right is 
Michael Angelo's tomb, of reddish marble on a white 
pedestal. By it sits on one side a woman personifying 
architecture, in the middle another with a chisel, to the 



FLORENCE AND ART. 165 

left a third witb an unfinished statue, — in that not unlike 
the great artist himself, who began so much that he 
never completed. Next is an empty white marble sar- 
cophagus of Dante, to the left of which stands proudly a 
female with mural crown and star, and opposite her 
weeps another with wreath in hand — probably because 
Dante never was buried there and " sleeps afar " in An- 
cona. By Alfieri's, which has tragic masks at the corners, 
stands a similar woman with a crown, and on Macchia- 
velli's, elevated like all the others on a white marble 
base, sits a figure holding his medallion. Facing Michael 
Angelo's on the other side of the church is the not dis- 
similar tomb of Galileo, on which his half-length figure 
holds a small telescope in hand, and further on in the 
right aisle is the grave of Rossini, marked, however, only 
by his name on the floor. The church also contains 
carved pulpits, Donatello's Crucifix, and many other 
objects of artistic or historical interest, the chief being 
Giotto's wall painting, the principal basis for his fame as 
a painter, although this was largely a faint tradition until 
in our own century it was accidentally discovered that 
under the whitewash of the Medici chapel the unap- 
preciative monks, had concealed his animated frescoes 
from the lives of St. John and St. Francis and their 
rescue immediately followed. 

The churches of Florence as of so many other Italian 
cities are among the most interesting monuments. But 
Florence is attractive in every way. Nowhere else did 
we find so much of interest crowded into so limited a 
space. History and romance, religion and art all lay 
claim to Florence, and the student and the pleasure 
seeker leave it with equal regret. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. 



A FTER a long and hot night ride from Florence we 
-'*• arrived about 2 a.m. September ist at Rome, en- 
ered a 'bus and were jolted down hill the long way to the 
Pension Suisse. There was much trouble waking up the 
portier but finally we were let into a dark but handsome 
hotel and were shown into the " lift." This elevator, 
like most others in Italy, was very deliberate in its 
movements and managed from below, no boy going 
along. We were ushered into a nice room with unswept 
marble floor, and, although we protested later against 
the dirt and were given another room, it was not an im- 
provement in this respect. Marble and dirt go together 
in this country. 

We were curious to discover where we were in Rome, 
and were glad next morning to find ourselves centrally 
located on the Via Nazionale just round the corner from 
the Forum of Trajan. We had got out of the train at 
the handsome station near where the railroad pierces 
the east walls of the city, adjacent to the arched ruins 
of the Baths of Diocletian. There is but this one rail- 
road station. 

The Via Nazionale is probably the widest and hand- 
166 




iJ 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. 1 6/ 

somest of the streets. It is well paved, bordered by new 
edifices, and has one of the very few street car lines of 
the city. It is new itself, for in 1880 this street did not 
exist. Now it runs direct from the railroad station to 
near the Forum of Trajan and there bending first to the 
north and then back to the west terminates a few 
hundred yards further on at the Piazza Venezia, where 
ends the Corso also one mile south from its beginning 
at the Porta del Popolo. The Corso (the ancient Via 
Flaminia) was formerly the great street of Rome, in 
many respects still is such, and here meets its younger 
rival almost at right angles. 

Most of modern Rome was north of us, and most of 
the principal ancient ruins south, so that our pleasant 
little hotel formed a good starting point for sight seeing, 
the more especially as almost all the omnibus lines leave 
from the Piazza Venezia. Hacks also are abundant and 
cheap and may be found everywhere. 

Ancient Rome was east of the Tiber and built upon 
the Palatine and six other hills surrounding it. The 
Palatine Hill was the first settled by the Latins, and in 
many respects must have been the centre of the public 
or at least of social life under the kings as well as under 
the emperors. There mythical Romulus built his wall, 
there the kings resided, and there the emperors erected 
their great palaces. The Sabine village was on the 
Quirinal Hill to the north, and on the amalgamation of 
these two settlements the valley between, the scene once 
of their battles, became the Roman Forum, the place of 
joint assembly for commerce and discussion. This site 
was marshy but was early drained by the first great 
sewer, the Cloaca Maxima, which is still in operation and 
empties into the Tiber. The Capitoline Hill at the 



1 68 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

north-Avest extremity of the Forum, really but a spur of 
the Quirinal and then approached only from the south, 
became the seat of government, with the citadel and 
temple of Jupiter as points of common resort. Between 
the Tiber on the west and these more northern hills is a 
level extent of territory, formerly without the walls and 
called the Campus Martins. This was at first unin- 
habited, but, as Rome grew, theatres, race courses, 
mausoleums, arches, and other public structures were 
erected there. It is now the most thickly built part of 
Rome, and the crowded mediseval houses are separated 
only by narrow and crooked lanes. 

Rome was long bounded west by the muddy Tiber, to 
which navigable stream it owed its early commercial 
greatness, and the town, its very name showing it to be 
a settlement in the woods, was a Latin colony placed 
here to defend the confederation against the alien Tus- 
cans on the other side of the river. The present Italian 
government seems to be trying to make the river 
navigable, for I have seen clumsy dredges at work near 
the mouth of the Cloaca. Near there was possibly the 
site of the Pons Sublicius, Rome's first bridge, so well 
defended by Horatius. The commerce on the Tiber 
must have been great in ancient times, but with the 
modern increase in size and draught of ships it has 
become insignificant, and, besides, the city is fourteen 
miles from the mouth of the river. There were in 
ancient times a number of bridges, but none are now 
pointed out among the remains of antiquity, except that 
by which we crossed to go to St. Peter's, the Pons ^lia, 
built by Hadrian to connect with Rome the imposing 
mausoleum which he erected for his dynasty. 

Rome, a place of three hundred thousand people, is 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. 169 

a world in itself and we hardly knew how to plan our 
sight seeing. We found the city perfectly healthy in 
August, although the weather was so warm that we 
always came back to the hotel between twelve and one, 
took dinner, rested and did not venture out again 
until five o'clock, when the sun was lower and the shade 
better. 

We first took an omnibus up the Corso to the hand- 
some and hot Piazza del Popolo to see the obelisk, and 
our main feeling was one of surprise that Rome looked 
so much like other cities. On the left as we went north 
was the Piazza Colonna with the marble Doric column 
of Marcus Aurelius towering ninety-five feet high among 
modern stores and sights. This and the column of 
Trajan near our hotel are much alike and have spiral 
reliefs of battles running around from top to bottom. 
The former monument has the celebrated relief of Ju- 
piter Pluvius showering down rain with his outstretched 
arms. Both columns now have statues of saints at the 
top, and this consecration has probably saved the monu- 
ments by deterring the mediaeval faithful from stealing 
the marble to burn for lime, and their robber nobles from 
using it to erect palaces. These native Italians, as 
Raphael declared, destroyed far more than the earlier 
Barbarian invaders. Similar consecration has saved a 
number of temples and monuments, but, alas, was not 
extended to all. 

On the first day and several times afterwards we went 
to the Roman Forum, it being near, possibly the most 
interesting spot in the city. Up to the beginning of this 
century it was covered twenty or more feet deep with 
rubbish from the surrounding hills, and was merely a 
grazing place for cattle. It was known as Campo Vac- 



170 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

cino, Cow Pasture, but a few projecting columns identi- 
fied the spot. Something was accomplished before the 
middle of the century but the most rapid progress in ex- 
cavation has been effected since 1870, when the present 
Italian kingdom captured Rome from the popes. Even 
yet much remains unknown, but the general arrange- 
ment of the ground at the time of the destruction of 
the buildings can be made out. The best view of the 
Forum must ahvays have been from the southern slope 
of the Capitoline Hill. Thence it stretched south-east- 
wardly between the Palatine and the spurs of the Quiri- 
nal and Esquiline until interrupted by the low Velian 
Hill, and in the same general valley beyond the Velian 
the view terminates in the imposing ruins of the Colos- 
seum. The excavation now is several hundred yards 
wide, and probably a quarter of a mile long, its greater 
length descending south-east from the slopes where was 
the ancient record office, (tabularium,) whose massive 
stones and vaults even now form the foundation of the 
Capitoline buildings, to abreast the basilica of Constan- 
tine and arch of Titus, where the Velian Hill and the 
foundations of the temple of Venus and Roma termi- 
nated the Forum. The central spot, the true Forum, 
was the rectangular Comitium near the Capitoline Hill, 
an open place of assembly, with a rostrum for speakers 
at either end. This had a paved highway on all four 
sides, two branches in fact of the Via Sacra. The Via 
Sacra seems to have been a continuation of the Via 
Appia and Via Latina, which ran to Rome from the 
Alban country and other places south, if the Via Sacra 
be not indeed the combination of all the southern and 
eastern highways to Rome continued northwardly from 
their union near the Colosseum to the Capitoline Hill. 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. I /I 

Not far from the Colosseum it passed under the arch of 
Titus, which has sculpture on the inside of its single 
arch showing in a procession captive Jews with the table 
of shew bread, trumpets and seven-branched candlestick, 
spoils brought by Titus a.d. 70 from his sack of Jerusa- 
lem. They say that good Jews even now will not go 
under this arch. The Via then descended past temples 
and entered the Forum under the arch of Augustus, 
now destroyed. It there divided, as we have seen, to 
embrace the Comitium, united and then went under the 
massive marble arch of Septimius Severus, with its sepa- 
rate passages for vehicles and foot travellers. Reaching 
now the temples on the slope of the Capitoline Hill, the 
Via Sacra turns at an angle to the left and climbs in 
front of these, and again turning to the right it must 
have ascended the Capitoline Hill and terminated at the 
venerated temple of Jupiter. It was thus bordered all 
the way by handsome temples and public structures ; 
but the whole scene is now a wreck, — large pieces of 
basalt, worn into ruts by ancient wheels, make up what 
is left of the roadway, and marble pavements, brick 
foundations, and occasionally a marble pillar mark the 
sites of the buildings. It looks somewhat like part of 
an American town after a disastrous fire. The Comitium 
in ancient times was bounded on the Capitoline end by 
temples, that of Concord being where the Senate usually 
met, at the other end by the temple of Csesar, built by 
Augustus. From the rostrum at this latter point Marc 
Antony pronounced the oration over the body of Caesar 
after the assassination in the Senate Hall March 19th, 
A.D. 44, which so enthused the populace that they hastily 
made Csesar's funeral pyre and burned his body in honor 
there in the Forum. 



172 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

On the left of the Comitium coming down from the 
Capitoline was the underground Mamertine prison where 
Jugurtha was abandoned to starve in the cold, Catiline's 
followers killed, and Saint Peter imprisoned. It dates 
back to the earliest kings, and still exists under the 
church of S. Pietro in Carcere. The prison is in two 
stories. The upper chamber cut in the tufa rock is itself 
some twelve feet below the church level, and a round 
hole in the floor Avas originall}' the only communication 
between this upper room and the lower oval cell beneath, 
but we go down now by steps at the side. St. Peter 
once leaned or fell against the wall so heavily as to leave 
the print of his face, now behind a grating. This cham- 
ber is so low that the hand easily reaches the ceiling. In 
it was shown — of course by lamplight — the pillar where 
Peter and Paul were bound, near by the spring, there 
long before Peter, (although he is said to have miracu- 
lously caused it to well forth in order to baptize his 
jailer,) and not far away they show too the spot where 
in ancient times they strangled prisoners by tying them 
to the wall. At the other or stair end they erroneously 
showed also the Tarpeian Rock, and near it is a passage 
leading straight on, the guide said, to the Catacombs, 
but more reliable Baedeker says to the Lautumise 
stairs eighty yards away. Any way there is a strong 
draught from somewhere perceptible at the mouth of 
the tunnel. Next east of the prison is the Curia Hos- 
tilia or first senate house, and last the Basilica yEmilia. 
Opposite, on the right coming down from the capitol, is 
the temple of Saturn, its unfluted granite front columns 
still standing, from old the Roman ^-Erarium or treasury. 
Then beyond the cross street (Vicus Jugarius) was the 
extensive Basilica Julia, built by Julius Caesar for the 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. ly^ 

courts, but foundations of pillars and the marble pave- 
ment are all that remain, for here the mediaeval Romans 
had their lime pits. Next on the same side of the Comi- 
tium but across the Cloaca Maxima and the Tuscan 
street (Vicus Tuscus) was, high above on a platform 
approached by eighteen steps, the temple of Castor and 
Pollux, of which three side pillars of beautiful Parian 
marble are yet in place. 

Such was the Roman Forum, and on it from all the 
hills looked down handsome structures of the eternal 
city. But Rome outgrew its republican forum, and 
other fora, mainly for judicial purposes, were added on 
the north by the emperors from time to time. Julius 
and Augustus built one, Augustus another, Domitian 
perhaps a third, all connected ; but there are few traces 
of these, as they are covered by modern buildings and 
have not yet been excavated. Trajan determined to 
give easy access from the now well built up Campus 
Martins to the old forum, and he accordingly dug down 
the neck joining the Capitoline and Quirinal Hills and 
built for himself a grand forum in the valley thus 
created. His forum, however, during the middle ages 
was itself gradually buried and even now but a part has 
been again cleared, — the Basilica Ulpia with its granite 
pillars and his column towering 128 feet. The column 
indicates the depth of his excavations and as well 
depicts his Dacian victories, and beneath it were once 
buried Trajan's now scattered remains. In the sculp- 
tures on the column the Roman soldiers, I noticed, wear 
the sword on the right side. 

The present Italian government lays bare something 
new from time to time as its means allow, and every new 
visit to Rome will teach us more of the architecture and 



174 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

life of that wonderful city, but Italy is anything but a 
prosperous country, and the process is necessarily slow. 
The private holders dispossessed must be compensated, 
in addition to the direct expense of digging, and the 
needs of modern commerce must also be respected in 
the selection of sites to be excavated. 

The Palatine Hill is in process of recovery and much 
that has been accomplished is due to Napoleon III., who 
owned it for some time, beginning in 1861. While there 
is a wilderness of ruins and vast substructures, includ- 
ing at the north end the approaches of a large bridge 
which Caligula erected to connect his palace with the 
Capitoline Hill, and at the southern extremity the build- 
ings of Septimius Severus, the discoveries are not at all 
well settled and do not at best rank in importance with 
those in the Forum. On the middle of the hill Augus- 
tus lived unpretendingly, and on the slopes were once 
the houses of Cicero, Catiline, Livia and others. The 
later emperors, however, covered the hill with their vast 
but useless palaces, and largely obliterated the unmor- 
tared tufa walls and buildings of the original Roma 
Quadrata of the kings. From the top of some arches 
supporting the palace of Septimius at the south-west 
corner I got a beautiful view in all directions. The 
Palatine was supplied with water by the Claudian 
aqueduct coming from the south, of which a few arches 
remain. An amusing part of the excavation is the school 
house on the western slope, with its walls cut and 
ornamented with drawings much similar to the crude 
pictures which our boys now perpetrate. One student 
of history had cut " Africanus " in the wall, much as 
in America one might find " Lee " or " Grant." 

The Capitoline Hill is hardly less disappointing, be- 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. 1/5 

cause absolutely nothing ancient is left. At least two 
sites on the west side are claimed for the Tarpeian Rock 
and at neither point is the hill very high. An active 
man might possibly jump down and get only a bad shak- 
ing up. The site of the great temple was at one end 
and the Arx at the other, and scholars have now about 
agreed that the Arx was at the northern or higher end, 
where the present church of Ara Coeli stands. The hill 
is shaped somewhat like a saddle, and since Michael 
Angelo's time the hollow in the middle has been called 
Piazza del Campidoglio, flanked on three sides by 
handsome public buildings but open to the north, whence 
it is approached from the modern city by a flight of flat 
asphalt steps and a winding driveway. In the middle of 
the Campidoglio is an ancient bronze equestrian statue 
of Marcus Aurelius. The horse, like all ancient steeds, 
has his mane cropped short. The building opposite the 
main approach is the Palazzo del Senatore, the handsome 
municipal buildings erected above the ancient Tabula- 
rium. ** S. P. Q. R." is still used on municipal documents, 
but Senatus Populusque Romanus are but a shadow now. 
To the left of the Piazza is the Capitoline Museum, con- 
taining amongst other things the Dying Gladiator or 
Gaul, a fine head of Alexander, the beautiful Capitoline 
Venus with abundant hair tied in a bow knot on top. 
The Venus was found walled up for protection. In this 
museum ancient skeletons lie in their original sarcophagi, 
and we saw also many marble fragments of an official 
plan of Rome, made during the reign of Septimius 
Severus, A.D. 193-211. 

Trajan cut away a large part of the north end of the 
Capitoline Hill to give access from the Campus Martins 
to the Forum, and now on the other hand the present 



176 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Italian government is engaged in enlarging this hill 
where Trajan cut it away in order on its highest point 
to gain room to erect a marble memorial hall to A'^ictor 
Emanuel, the restorer of Italian unity. So far but a few 
colum.ns have been completed and they thus seem rather 
in keeping with the fragmentary ruins in the Forum they 
overlook. Strangers are not admitted and when I slipped 
in the soldiers on guard promptly arrested me and turned 
me out. It was while musing near here in the church of 
Ara Coeli that Gibbon conceived the design of writing 
his great work on the Decline and Fall of the Roman 
Empire. 

Rome is growing much like an American city, and 
many of the more interesting ruins have to be sought 
amidst modern buildings. The vast Colosseum is over- 
looked in part by modern flats. This famous structure 
was erected by Titus Avhere Nero had had an artificial 
lake in the gardens for which the burning of Rome fur- 
nished room. The site is still low. The Colosseum — 
named not from its own size but from the colossal statue 
of Nero once standing near it — was an ellipse six hun- 
dred and fifteen feet long by five hundred and ten wide, 
and one hundred and fifty-six feet high, in four stories 
without roof. The three lower stories were arcades, the 
ground floor being Doric, the next Ionic, the third Corin- 
thian, and the fourth a wall with windows. The outside 
main wall is now standing only on the north side, and 
the stones of the cornice in several places look very in- 
secure. Corbels and sockets are visible on the outside 
near the top for stepping the masts which supported the 
protecting awnings. Inside is the arena, two hundred 
and seventy-nine by one hundred and seventy-four feet, 
now excavated in part, showing chambers below in which 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. 1 7/ 

beasts and gladiators were probably housed. From the 
inside the view is impressive, but it is that of a complete 
wreck. Four tiers of seats, for eighty-seven thousand 
people, were there, but now only tier upon tier of the 
stone or masonry on which the seats once rested. It 
looks like a stone building after a fire, and in some way 
you think you see the ribs of some vast pre-adamite 
monster. Part of the internal flights of steps to reach the 
seats remain or are restored and can be ascended to the 
third story, and places for others are visible all about. A 
number of popes have restored parts of the structure or 
by brick supports preserved portions in danger of fall- 
ing, and these pontiffs have in each case inserted an in- 
scription in their own honor. The size and ruin of the 
Colosseum may be better realized from the statement 
that in it grow 420 species of plants, many peculiar to it. 

Between the Colosseum and the Palatine Hill is the 
triumphal arch of Constantine. It has a central drive- 
way and arches at either side for foot passengers. A 
significant commentary on his times is that the best 
sculptures on it are taken bodily from an earlier and 
handsomer arch of Trajan, and that what was executed 
in Constantine's time, say 311 a.d., is far inferior. 
And yet we moderns, because Constantine embraced 
the Christian faith, generally think of his time as one of 
great progress and prosperity. 

In the valley west of the Palatine Hill was formerly 
the Circus Maximus, but the neighborhood is now well 
built up and showed few ruins as we passed over the site 
in street cars. Continuing to the south and after a while 
turning from the walled highway into a branch road, we 
came to the majestic, isolated Baths of Caracalla, near 
the extreme southern point of ancient Rome. About 



178 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

this great structure was once a court, and behind a race 
course. The Baths are in ruins, but enough remains to 
indicate the arrangement. It was originally a lofty 
building with a portico at each end, and within in the 
central one of the three large chambers perpendicular to 
these porches were warm baths in four basins, while to 
the one side was the cold bath with great swimming 
basin, and to the other the smaller round hot bath. These 
were called respectively the tepidarium, frigidarium, 
and caldarium. Each of these was a large, vaulted 
apartment, the roof now gone, however, and the coarse 
mosaic pavement painfully uneven. The caldarium had 
double floors and walls for warm air and underneath I 
noticed what seemed to be a furnace blackened with 
soot. The architectural ornaments showed the decline 
of art into a kind of rococo, the capitals, for instance, 
being composite and decorated with human figures. 
Over the caldarium the guide pointed out the remains of 
an aqueduct which supplied the water. The guide was 
compulsory, but as he was included in the one lira ad- 
mission fee we did not object much. From these Baths 
came the Farnese Hercules, Flora and the Hercules 
Torso, and there were fragments of other statuary still 
there, but of no especial value. 

The Baths of Diocletian are at the other end of the 
city, and the Baths of Titus, where the Laocoon group 
was discovered, are in a field near the Colosseum. Leo 
X., who had an untiring assistant in Raphael, never 
passed such discoveries without well rewarding the 
finder. 

There are other well known monuments in different 
parts of the city. Not to dwell on the beautiful little 
round Corinthian temple near the river at the foot of the 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. 1 79 

Palatine, called for Vesta, and the so-called temple of 
Janus Quadrifrons near by, which was more probably an 
exchange connected with an adjacent cattle market, 
(forum boarium,) one of the most interesting of the 
ancient structures is the Pantheon, built by Agrippa, the 
well known friend of Augustus, a.d. 27, in the Campus 
Martins. Within, time has wrought few changes, for its 
colored marbles, tasteful pillars, vast flat dome, which 
has been the model of all subsequent architects and 
through whose round opening the building is lighted, 
are well preserved. The diameter and height are each 
140 feet and the simple grandeur of the vast interior 
is impressive. The thick walls exclude all external 
noise and priests and people go quietly about in worship 
from altar to altar. For it has been a Christian church 
since it was dedicated to the Martyrs in 609 on the first 
All-Saints' Day, when many wagon-loads of bones were 
brought from the Catacombs and re-interred under the 
high altar. In later times Raphael was buried in this 
church amid great popular grief at his sudden death in 
1520, and in our own day Victor Emanuel also, near the 
high altar. At his tomb shortly after our visit occurred 
the hostile demonstration by French pilgrims which was 
resented so roughly by the Italians that the pope has 
thought it proper to re-consecrate the building. The 
Pantheon's noble Corinthian portico was approached by 
a flight of steps, but they are buried under modern ac- 
cumulations and one actually descends now to enter. 

Not far away is the rifled Mausoleum of Augustus, ap- 
parently in somebody's back yard and now used for a 
cheap theatre. It is round and Hadrian's would seem 
to have been copied from it. Within we were shown a 
niche in a dark passage where the ashes of Augustus and 



l8o RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

his family once reposed, but the monument has outlasted 
what it was built to contain, and no one knows where 
now is " imperial Csesar, dead and turned to clay." 

Away off from here, in the south-eastern corner of 
Rome, are the church and palace of St. John Lateran. 
The palace is said to have been presented by Constantine 
to Pope Sylvester and was the usual papal residence until 
the removal to Avignon. The tradition is that when the 
death of a pope is imminent the bones of Sylvester rattle 
in the palace. This is now a museum, whose profane 
department is not of much interest, but in the Christian 
division let into the walls are numberless inscriptions and 
sculptures from the catacombs. There were some rude 
biblical scenes, generally symbolic of the resurrection 
or some doctrine, such as Moses striking the rock, 
Daniel among the lions, and a remarkable Jonah with 
a whale of his own size. We saw few crosses but a good 
many fish, the Greek word for fish (ichthus) containing 
the first letters of the Greek for " Jesus Christ, son of 
God, Saviour." The earliest inscriptions were brief, 
such as In Pace, Requiescat, Pray for us, and the like, 
aud many of the oldest in Greek, for Christianity was 
first preached from the Grecian East. There were few 
historical representations. 

In the old church of St. John Lateran were held many 
famous councils. The present structure is in the hand- 
some Italian style of the last century. It is rather a 
museum itself, for they claim that some small columns of 
an altar came from the great temple of Jupiter Capito- 
linus, in the square pilasters are the ancient pillars of 
Constantine's church, St. Peter's table is Avithin the 
altar and that the heads of Paul and Peter are buried 
under it. 



ROME AND ITS RUINS. 1 51 

Not far off in another building are the sacred stairs of 
marble from Pilate's palace at Jerusalem, brought here 
by that indefatigable discoverer, the Empress Helena, 
mother of Constantine. On each side of them is a flight 
of steps, up and down which the curious go to gaze at 
well-dressed people as well as those in rags ascending 
the Scala Santa on their knees, reciting prayers as they 
climb. The twenty-eight steps are cased in wood to pre- 
vent their being worn out as well as the clothing of the 
faithful. It was while ascending these that it flashed on 
Luther '' the just shall live by faith " and not by such 
acts, and so here where one would least expect it is 
found one of the fountain heads of the Reformation. 

From the high terrace near the Lateran is a beautiful 
view southward over the Campagna. Many ruins are in 
sight and huge aqueduct arches stalk across the plain 
from the blue Alban mountains, while from the vicinity 
of the church one of the new avenues, rapidly building 
up, runs northward to the modern quarters of Rome 
again. So closely in the Eternal City tread ancient, 
mediaeval, and modern on each other! 




CHAPTER XIV. 

ST, Peter's and the Vatican, 

\17E saw St. Peter's of course. A 'busline runs regu- 
" ^ larly from the Piazza Venezia to the northern of 
the two colonnades of Bernini which all but surround the 
Piazza S. Pietro in front of the church. The route took 
us along narrow thoroughfares of the old Campus Mar- 
tius, past the corner where stands the broken Greek 
warrior known as Pasquin, a statue on which wits paste 
their satires and landlords their rent notices. We then 
crossed the Tiber at the round castle of St. Angelo with 
its famous prison cells, (formerly the mausoleum of 
Hadrian,) and thence Avere taken straight to St. Peter's. 
The castle of St. Angelo commanded Rome from the 
opposite bank, and, as the great military stronghold of 
the popes, was once connected by a covered passage with 
the Vatican, the papal residence. 

This trans-Tiberine quarter of Rome, the Borgo, is 
very unattractive and would hardly be selected on its own 
account as the place for the grandest ecclesiastical build- 
ing of Christendom. The early emperors had gardens 
and a circus here outside the walls of Rome, and to light 
them up Nero burned Christians on crosses. Peter is 
said also to have been crucified near by and buried here, 

182 



ST. PETER'S AND THE VATICAN. 1 83 

and, while there is very little satisfactory proof of this, 
not unnaturally a church was as early as the time of 
Constantine erected on the traditional site. Here a.d. 
800 in old St. Peter's Charlemagne was crowned, and a 
few years later the invading Saracens took from its altar 
the sacred ornaments. 

When in the fifteenth century Pope Julius II. conceived 
the plan of a grand church edifice he tore down this 
historic church. The present basilica is the result of the 
great efforts of this pontiff and Leo X., and of several 
centuries of work for them and their successors by such 
architects as Bramante, Michael Angelo and Bernini, 
each to some extent undoing what his predecessor 
had done. The necessities of the papal treasury 
growing out of this undertaking caused the sale 
of the indulgences in the time of Leo X., which 
aroused Luther and precipitated the Reforma- 
mation. The original and better design of Bramante 
was that of an equilateral Greek cross, but the church 
as now built is a Latin cross in shape, the main arm 
being 615 feet long, the transverse arm 450 feet. The 
nave is 150 feet high and the magnificent dome over the 
intersection of the nave and transept rises 435 feet. 
The dome is not seen to advantage in the immediate 
vicinity, as in front the portico unfortunately hides it, 
but from the Campagna outside and from many points in 
the city it looms up the most prominent object in Rome. 
Since the Eiffel tower in Paris was built 984 feet into 
the air, St. Peter's, the Pyramids and all other works of 
man formerly thought high cease to aspire to grandeur 
on account of height alone, but in other respects no 
other structure compares with this church. From the 
entrance doors you feel only that you are in a large 



1 84 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

and beautiful building ; its proportions you appreciate 
at once, but the dimensions one cannot take in except 
by degrees. A man at a distance looks like a child, and 
from the doors a pair of cherubs holding a basin of holy 
water by a side pillar looked of normal baby size. We 
went up to them and found their hands larger than ours 
and the infants taller than even cousin Dan. By the 
time we had walked the length of the church we realized 
the distance better. At the back in the tribune is a gilt 
chair high above the floor, said to contain the original 
wooden chair of St. Peter. The bronze canopy under 
the dome covers the great altar, — which is not at the end 
of the church as is usual, — and under that is the supposed 
tomb of St. Peter. Before the tomb below kneels 
Canova's marble statute of Pius VI. as he often did in life. 
The canopy, or baldachino, made of metal taken from 
the Pantheon, rests gracefully upon its four twisted 
columns, but does not look its height of 96 feet. The 
pen in the hand of the mosaic St. Luke high above, at 
the base of the dome, is seven feet long, but seems only 
as many inches. The inscription running around the 
great dome, " Tu es Petrus," etc., is in mosaic letters 
four feet ten inches in height. But we could realize 
none of these dimensions except by comparing them 
when possible with human figures near. 

In the side aisles and transepts are chapels with 
statuary, altar pieces, and pictures in mosaic that rival 
the original paintings, and in many of the chapels are 
tombs of popes and distinguished people. The north 
transept was partitioned off in 1870 and used by the 
council which proclaimed the Infallibility of the Pope. At 
a pillar in the nave near the dome is the celebrated 
seated bronze statue of St. Peter, with a foot projecting 



ST. PETER'S AND THE VATICAN. 1 85 

beyond the base, and I rubbed the toes with my hand- 
kerchief and kissed the foot like the other visitors. I 
suspect it is a statue of Jupiter and not Peter, but I 
could not afford to go to Rome and not kiss St. Peter's 
foot. 

Of the monuments that executed by Canova for George 
IV. to " James III." and his sons, the exiled Stuarts, 
struck us very much, for it is one of George's few 
creditable actions. The marble group across the church, 
the " Pieta " of Michael Angelo, Mary with the dead 
Christ on her lap, is of course finely executed, but until 
I can share the Catholic reverence for it because of 
Mary I must feel averse to so ghastly a subject. It 
is interesting, however, to locate the resting places of 
distinguished men, and St. Peter's contains the graves 
of many famous people. Of the better known are St. 
Peter, Leo I., (the Great,) Gregory I., (the Great,) 
famous for his music, St. Gregory Nazianzen, Julius II., 
the fighting pope, the composer Palestrina, Gregory 
XIII. who reformed the calendar, and others, but many 
of the monuments here, as in Westminster Abbey, are 
in honor of illustrious dead who are buried elsewhere. 
The tomb of Julius II. is marked only by a flat slab 
instead of the magnificent monument designed by 
Michael Angelo and for which he carved the colossal and 
majestic Moses, now in S. Pietro in Vincoli, the Fettered 
Slaves in the Louvre, and other great works. The im- 
patient Julius quarrelled with the sculptor about the cost 
and slowness of this undertaking, upon which Michael 
Angelo indignantly left Rome for Florence. Even after 
their reconciliation Julius preferred to put the artist to 
work in the Sistine Chapel, and the tomb was never 
finished. 



1 86 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Of all men Leo X. should have been buried in St. 
Peter's. He built the church, and was, next to Augustus, 
perhaps the greatest patron of the arts that the world 
has known. After his sudden and mysterious death, 
however, in 1521, he was interred in the Vatican and his 
remains were finally removed with those of his kinsman 
Clement VII., who reigned shortly after him, to the 
church of Sta. Maria Sopra Minerva on the other side 
of the Tiber. In the choir behind the altar there I 
found the tombs of these two Medici pontiffs, the monu- 
ment of Leo representing him as seated, but so short 
is the greatest fame that a monk in the church could 
not point out to me Leo's grave. 

Tasso is buried in an elaborate tomb at the church of 
S. Onofrio near St. Peter's. In its garden is his oak, 
now hollow, under which he so often sat and gazed on 
Rome. Upstairs in the convent is his room, and on the 
wall opposite the door is painted a speaking likeness of 
the poet, pausing as if surprised at the intrusion, his 
lightly bearded face kind and pensive. The room has 
its old rafters and about are a number of souvenirs. 

The Vatican adjoins St. Peter's on the north. Since 
the Italians in 1870 deprived Pius IX. of his temporal 
dominions, the popes have chosen to regard and repre- 
sent themselves as prisoners in this palace and have 
never gone outside its limits. Its rooms are counted by 
the thousand, although most of them are used as art 
galleries and not for habitation. It dates back to before 
the time of Charlemagne but has only gradually assumed 
its present shape and dimensions. Pope Nicholas V. 
(1447-1455) was the projector of its vast plan, and Leo 
X. did much to join its disconnected parts and ornament 
them with paintings. Externally it is not handsome 



57; PETER'S AND THE VATICAN. 18/ 

and from a distance looks a great deal like an American 
grain elevator. The main entrance is from the Piazza 
of St. Peter's and after passing by the Swiss guards, (in 
Michael Angelo's slashed yellow, red and black uni- 
form,) and up a long hall, we ascended a flight of steps, 
the Scala Regia, where at a landing a man took our 
parcels. On the first floor is the Sistine Chapel, on the 
second are the wall paintings of Raphael, and on the 
third is the picture gallery. When one has climbed up all 
the stairways, — some winding, others narrow and dark, a 
few magnificent, — he wishes that His Holiness would 
buy and put in a modern passenger elevator. Some 
enterprising American manufacturer could afford to 
present one gratis for the advertisement, and would thus 
earn the gratitude of travellers and popes forever. 

The Sistine Chapel, whose wall paintings were by 
Michael Angelo in the time of Julius H., is supposed by 
some critics to be the finest work of pictorial art, but 
Rachel and I sat back in our chairs in that room and 
found difficulty in realizing the claim. It is a large 
chapel with altar at one end, and above the altar is the 
dim Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, finished 1541 
after seven years' labor. It is made up of figures in half 
a dozen groups on clouds about the Saviour. The ceil- 
ing above us was covered with grand prophets, almost 
breathing sibyls and familiar Bible scenes, all by the 
same great hand. I liked best of the sibyls the Cumaean 
hag, possibly because I had visited her sounding caves 
and known her sea-girt haunts. Michael Angelo drew 
his figures nude and clothed them afterwards, if at all, 
and it has always seemed to me that he thus was led to 
insist too much on muscular development and on uncom- 
fortable and awkward positions of the body both in his 



1 88 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

paintings and sculptures. Art no doubt has other aims 
than mere grace, but surely among them is not to 
displease by constantly picturing prize fighters and 
contortionists. In the Last Judgment, however, there is 
perhaps room for the grotesque. In the centre is Christ 
the Judge, as muscular as Hercules, by his side kneels 
Mary, above them appear angels with trumpets, to his 
right are the ascending saints, fought over by angels and 
demons, to his left the miserable wicked, while below 
are Charon, hell and devils, the last with regulation horn 
and tail. The figures were all nude until two of the 
popes had them more or less draped, putting on Mary a 
blue dress, hardly becoming and now much faded. 

On the floor above we passed through several rooms 
of gigantic and impressive modern paintings to the 
Stanze of Raphael, a series of connected rooms, formerly 
constituting the papal apartments. The ceilings and 
walls here, too, are covered with frescoes, but the greater 
part of the north wall of each stanza is taken up by a 
large window which lights the room. Raphael was a 
pupil of Perugino, who originally Avorked here, but 
Raphael became so efficient that to him eventually was 
committed the whole. Julius II. had the honor of or- 
dering the execution of the paintings in the first room 
and two paintings in the second of this suite, while the 
others and the loggie adjacent were painted for Leo X., 
of whose reign Raphael was the most distinguished orna- 
ment in the realm of art. There seems to have been a 
mutual repugnance between this pontiff and Michael 
Angelo, and that artist spent the eight years of this pon- 
tificate at Florence, not in idleness, but without pro- 
ducing any great work. In these frescoes Raphael by 
way of flattery introduces the portraits of his pontifical 



ST. PETER'S AND THE VATICAN. 1 89 

patrons. The most celebrated of these paintings are in 
the Camera della Segnature, the second room but painted 
first. ■ On its walls are represented the Christian Faith, 
Apollo playing to the Muses, and the School of Athens. 
The last impressed me most. It is the familiar picture 
of Plato and Aristotle talking in a vaulted hall, Plato 
pointing upwards, and on the steps or ground are famous 
characters in animated discourse, and amongst them we 
easily recognized ugly Socrates. In the next room 
among other frescoes are Peter released from prison 
and Attila repulsed by Leo I., — really the expulsion of 
the French from Italy in the time of Leo X., the goal of 
the political efforts of that patriotic if unscrupulous 
pope. A fresco to suit the present time would perhaps 
reverse this and be the French welcomed to Rome by 
Leo XIII. In the first stanza the only picture by Raph- 
ael's own hand is the Conflagration of the Borgo and 
its extinguishment by the sign of the cross made by 
Leo IV. 

We had become interested in this and I was look- 
ing at a man in the picture dropping from a wall or 
house, when some official rushed through, shouting 
Italian and waving his arms excitedly. We all thought 
that there was another fire, and all visitors and copyists 
were rushed out to a gallery shut in with glass, — the 
Loggie of Raphael. These overlook the courtyard of 
S. Damaso, on the other side of which are the pope's 
living apartments. We have never been quite certain 
what was the matter, but think that His Holiness wished 
to pass through privately. We were shut up in this hot 
place for about half an hour, during which I craned my 
neck in the study of Raphael's excellent and familiar 
Bible scenes, from the Creation to the Last Supper, 



190 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

painted in the thirteen vaults of the gallery ceiling. In 
the Fall we noticed that the serpent had a woman's head. 
The pictures were exposed to the weather for several 
centuries, with the natural result of destruction of some 
and injury to the rest. When permitted we returned to 
the stanze and finished them. The fourth relates almost 
exclusively to Constantine, and contains the large Battle 
with Maxentius, the Baptism of Constantine, Constan- 
tine presenting Rome to Pope Sylvester I., and the fa- 
miliar picture of the Cross in the Heavens. These were 
by pupils of Raphael from his designs and hardly up to 
his standard. 

The picture gallery above is not as large as many 
others but contains valuable works. After the fall of 
Napoleon in 1815 the paintings were restored which he 
had taken out of Italian churches, and the pope received 
them and in his turn appropriated them to found a 
gallery, to which many others acquired by donation or 
^otherwise have been added since. Almost all are on 
religious subjects. The three most celebrated are in one 
room, — Raphael's Transfiguration, his Madonna di Fo- 
ligno with the sun for a glory behind her, and Domeni- 
chino's Communion of Jerome. In the Transfiguration 
the benignant Christ with Moses and Elias are in the air, 
on the mountain below are the three dazed disciples, 
thus making up the upper part of the picture, while in 
the lower half the disciples in the valley try in vain to 
heal the squint-eyed demoniac boy. This picture was 
at Raphael's head as his masterpiece when his body lay 
in state. In the Communion, St. Jerome, old, earnest, 
pallid and dying, is supported on his knees to take the 
sacrament. This was painted for the monks of Ara 
Coeli but these critics finally put it in a lumber room. 



ST. PETER'S AND THE VATICAN-. I9I 

Guido Reni has a crucifixion of Peter in this gallery 
following the tradition that Peter was at his own request 
crucified with his head down and feet up, as he was not 
worthy to die in the same manner as his Lord. Poussin's 
striking Martyrdom of St. Erasmus is also there, — the 
saint meeting death by the horrible torture of having 
the smaller intestine drawn from the abdomen by a 
revolving wheel. 

The Vatican sculpture galleries are probably the finest 
in the world and why His Holiness does not make them 
accessible from the main entrance of the palace we could 
not imagine. The only way open is to go clear around 
St. Peter's until you are under the windows of the Sistine 
Chapel and then walk half as far again up a court to the 
entrance steps, a distance of at least half a mile, and in 
our case all under the hot sun. The galleries themselves 
then stretch on for as much further, and sight seeing 
becomes almost a burden. There we saw among other 
sculptures the recumbent, graceful, deserted Ariadne, 
the shaggy bust of Zeus of Otricoli with big bump on 
his forehead, the beautiful bust of young Augustus, the 
stern, older Augustus in full armor with low reliefs, the 
athlete throwing the discus, the marble biga with two 
prancing yoked horses. Father Nile with children play- 
ing over him, stern, bearded Demosthenes, and his oppo- 
nent, the pleasanter faced .'F^schines. In the arcades 
about the octagonal Belvidere court are the most famous 
pieces of the gallery, among them the Apollo and Lao- 
coon. The thin Apollo has just shot his bow, and stands 
looking intently and perhaps scornfully in the direction 
of his aim. As it is the correct thing to undo the past 
and prove ourselves better informed than our fathers, it 
is now given out that Apollo was not shooting a bow at 



192 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

all, but was shaking his segis. As his left hand Avas not 
found, of course we cannot tell what he really held in it, 
and it is a free-for-all contest of guessers as to this as 
well as so many other pieces of statuary. His hair is 
abundant and bound up in a knot, and his sandals, by 
the way, are double soled. The agonized Laocoon group 
is finer than any copy I have seen, although the figures 
are smaller than one would anticipate, and the children 
are rather small men than boys. The son to his left, en- 
twined by the same serpent as the father, appeals to him 
for help, but the other boy is too much entangled by a 
second serpent even to ask for aid. In another room 
of the arcade is the godlike Meleager, no longer yellow 
like ivory, as in Addison's day, and Canova's animated 
Boxers in another compartment to our minds compared 
favorably with the works of the ancients. In the centre 
of a vestibule near by we found a mass of marble with- 
out much shape, but marked by all guide books as 
worthy of great attention. On close examination we dis- 
covered that it was the trunk of a seated human body, 
without head or arms, legs gone below the knees, and 
even what remains rather injured too. This is the Greek 
Torso of the first century B.C. so admired by Michael 
Angelo. 

There is, of course, much else fine in the Vatican 
collections. We saw the highly polished and imposing 
Egyptian figures and sarcophagi, the iridescent Tuscan 
vases and bottles, the recumbent terra cotta figures on 
the Etrurian tombs, always resting on the left arm, the 
long brown tufa box used once as the tomb of the 
Scipios, surmounted by a bust, the beautiful ancient 
floor mosaics from the Baths and other places, the large 
porphyry vases and tombs, besides thousands of other 



ST. PETER'S AND THE VATICAN. 1 93 

pieces of sculpture. As the statuary is all on pedestals, 
I could not help noticing, too, the prosaic subject oi toes. 
The little toe is curled up in the same supernumerary 
manner as now-a-days, but the one next never bends 
under the third, and the big and second toes are widely 
separated. The different effects of their sandals and our 
shoes are thus very noticeable, if indeed the sculptors 
followed actual life. There was one room of sculpture 
that surprised Rachel very much, — full of crabs, lobsters, 
monkeys, and other marble animals. There was a rude 
sow with little pigs, an animated camel's head, a pelican 
with pouch, and a little fighting cock with bristling 
feathers. In another room were some anatomical studies 
in marble, — one of the human body with flesh cut off to 
the ribs, another cut further until the bladder shows. 
We do not think generally of the Romans as caring for 
natural history or anatomy, and, scientific as is this age, 
even we do not thus perpetuate our studies. 

In one room I found a very different exhibit, — the 
faded Tapestries of Raphael, designed for the side walls 
of the Sistine Chapel and illustrating scenes from the 
Book of Acts, such as Paul on Mars Hill, Peter and John 
raising the cripple, etc., the originals of the familiar types 
we find in many engravings. These tapestries were 
woven in the Netherlands, and the cartoons from which 
they were made found their way to England and after 
long neglect were placed at Hampton Court and then in 
the South Kensington Museum, where they are still 
exhibited. 

It would take many visits to become even casually 
acquainted with all the treasures of the Vatican. Each 
time we saw something new, each time we learned more 
about what we had seen before. The long, vaulted gal- 



194 



RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 



leries, with stucco and gilt ornamentation, the handsome 
marble columns, the domes, the views from porticos, are 
themselves interesting and beautiful, even without regard 
to the works of art arranged along the walls. 

The many interesting churches and the mediaeval 
palaces of the city with their paintings and monuments 
would themselves fill a volume, but after all we look back 
to the Vatican, St. Peter's and the Forum as the chief of 
the many glories of Rome. 





CHAPTER XV. 



ENVIRONS OF ROME, 



/^N my earlier tour a friend and I took trips in the 
^^ outskirts and neighborhood of Rome and saw some 
things not down in the guide books. The Alban coun- 
try and even the falls of Terni were visited, as well as 
the Via Appia and Catacombs nearer the city walls. 

On one occasion after passing Monte Testaccio, a high 
ancient mound made of pottery, from no one knows what 
source, but commanding beautiful views, I visited the 
interesting Protestant cemetery just within the ancient 
walls near the south-west corner of the city. There at 
the foot of the ancient sepulchral pyramid of Cestius is 
a square grave bordered with a tiny hedge, containing 
the heart of the great but erratic poet, Shelley, who was 
drowned in a storm near Leghorn. He was in his sail 
boat going home and was last seen sitting in the stern 
reading a book. His remains were washed ashore and 
there in a desolate spot were cremated by his friends 
Byron and Trelawny as a matter of necessity, but the 
heart — cor cordium — would not burn and they rescued it 
and brought it here for interment. Near the entrance, 
surrounded by a higher box hedge, is the nameless grave 
of that twin genius, Keats. The inscription speaks of 

195 



196 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

him as a young English poet who desired on his death 
bed that there be written on his tombstone, " His name 
was writ in water." Based on this Robert Bridges in a 
poem composed at Princeton College has beautifully- 
made an angel descend in mid-ocean at the poet's death 
and write in the sea the name of Keats, and this the 
winds take up and repeat in love and sorrow the wide 
world over. 

At another time we took a tramp southward on the 
Appian Way, going also to the Grotto of Egeria and to 
St. Paul's. We started out one morning rather late, after 
nine, going past the tomb of the Scipios, of which but a 
confused mass of brick and pillars appeared above the 
wall bounding the road. We then went under the plain 
stone arch of Drusus, which has remains of an aqueduct 
on top, through the medieval looking Porta S. Paolo, 
and were on the Via Appia without the walls, but the 
Via Appia modernized by the small square stones now 
used for paving in Rome, and indeed further out it was 
macadamized. It ran below the level of the fields until 
we reached the neighborhood of the Catacombs, and as 
we were shut in between walls we saw little even of the 
brick tombs along the side. 

At these Catacombs, originally called Coemeteria, of 
S. Calixtus, the best known of the many about Rome, 
the Christians lived, worshipped, and Avere buried during 
the imperial persecutions before Constantine. They are 
lighted now in part by piercings in the roof, if I may call 
it such, made after they had ceased to be places of refuge 
and burial and had become the resorts of pilgrims from 
all over the Christianized world, who came to worship at 
the graves of the martyrs. From about the fifth century 
no extensions were naade of the Catacombs, as the dead 



ENVIRONS OF ROME. 19/ 

were now interred near the churches. It was a cour- 
ageous but awful thing to live there underground amid 
decaying bodies for conscience' sake. The bones have 
now nearly all been removed, some by popes to the 
Pantheon and other churches, some by reverent barbar- 
ian invaders to sell in the north as sacred relics, and 
the interesting inscriptions have been taken to the 
Lateran. This aids scientific study, but it detracts from 
the Catacombs themselves, and leaves them rather bare 
to take away the martyrs to the churches and their works 
to the museums. 

We went down holding the tallow dips handed us and 
followed the guide along passages hardly a yard wide 
and not over high, crossing at angles, generally level but 
sometimes at varying slopes. After four or five sharp 
turns I lost my reckoning entirely. I touched the dry 
wall, and it seemed to crumble as if the passages were 
cut in sand or some soft tufa rock. Along the sides 
were deep grooves to receive bodies, originally covered 
in with inscribed marble slabs. At frequent intervals 
were openings into vaults for families or distinguished 
people, popes and others, and around these also were 
shelves cut to receive bodies. I saw two large marble 
sarcophagi in a vault, one containing, even yet, a 
mummy and the other a skeleton, for the Christians, in- 
jfluenced by their belief in a resurrection, buried their 
dead instead of cremating like the heathen Romans 
about them. The ornamentation was simple and the 
sculpture rude. A few rooms had marble, and one, 
which was pointed out as the vault of a distinguished 
family, was striped with colors and showed a kind of 
barbaric refinement. Another contained the tombs of 
several popes, in yet another had lain St. Cecilia, and 



198 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

there I noticed stiff paintings of Christ with Cecilia and 
Urban, and in these productions of the seventh century 
the artist used what is even now the type for our Lord. It 
was a weird feeling to hurry about behind a guide and 
see by candlelight room after room in whose shelves and 
stone boxes once reposed the early Christian dead, and 
it was with a feeling of some relief that we re-ascended 
to daylight and the surface of the earth again, about 
five hundred yards from where we had gone down. 

My friend from here returned to Rome. The Via Appia 
continued straight as an arrow, but undulating with 
hill and valley, until it reached the summit at Albano, 
but I branched off from it and made my way across un- 
cultivated fields to the grotto of Egeria, enjoying beauti- 
tiful views all the way. Behind me was Rome with the 
Lateran of many statues and the great dome of St. 
Peter's, in front the familiar Alban mount with its crown 
of trees, to its left Frascati, on its other side Albano 
and other villages, while away to my left stretched the 
high Sabine peaks, and all about me was the rolling 
Campagna, — an historic landscape, I passed an ancient 
building modernized into a church, and behind it in a 
vaulted ruin cows gathered from the heat. A man, of 
course, could also be seen sleeping there, for you can 
find an Italian asleep almost anywhere at noon. 

The grotto where Numa nightly met the wise nymph 
Egeria is visible only from the Almo valley, being in the 
side of a hill, and this brook flows past in a brick channel 
above the level of the ground. The grotto is a brick vault, 
but a piece of its old marble facing is on the floor. In a 
large niche at the back is the recumbent statue of the 
tutelary deity, now sans head but clearly a man, and 
behind was an opening in the wall whence comes no 



ENVIRONS OF ROME. 1 99 

water, for that gushes from a hole in the first of the 
three niches in the left wall and nearly floods the pave- 
ment. The right wall has three corresponding niches, all 
arched, and at the entrance towards the Almo the sides 
widen out into a transept with a niche at each end, but 
there is no wall at all on the side towards the brook. The 
front is overgrown with creeping plants and a kind of 
ivy hangs down partially over the entrance. It was a 
pretty picture indeed. 

By a cross road I regained the Via Appia and a little 
further on left it to visit the Circus of Maxentius. This 
is at least a quarter of a mile long and had tiers of brick 
seats the whole way up. There are remains of the spina 
or division in the centre of the course, with a brick 
mound at each extremity where the racers turned. The 
Rome end of the Circus has two towers, and apparently 
was open, and made its shape a U. The other is hemmed 
in by the curve of seats, broken only by an arch for 
entry or exit. The remains of the walls and seats are 
curiously honeycombed with large earthen jars in the 
concrete of brick and mortar, — I suppose to economize 
material, as, with these internal hollows acting somewhat 
as arches, the structure would be strong enough. Daisies 
were all over the grass-grown course, which is now at 
one end ten feet above the ancient level, as the partly 
buried arch and meta or goal testify. This structure 
was not roofed in. 

Near was the round tomb of Caecilia Metella, the wife 
of the triumvir Crassus. The frieze is of bulls' heads 
and horns, much injured by time, and above are queer 
slit battlements of the middle ages. Inside, the huge 
monument is hollow and evidently was once vaulted, but 
I noticed no stairs in the thick walls by which to ascend. 



200 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

The structure is joined now by walls to medieval fortifi- 
cations, and as it is cased in white marble is visible far 
and wide over the flat Campagna. During the middle 
ages it was used as a castle by the Roman robber nobles, 
as were also many of the larger monuments in the city, 
such as the mausoleum of Hadrian, the arch of Constan- 
tine and the Colosseum itself. 

After returning on the Via Appia a short distance, I 
took a cross road south over to St. Paul's, called for part 
of the way Via Paradisa, but it was near two o'clock 
and the hot sunshine reminded me more of a broader 
way. As is common where there is not a wall, the road 
was bordered by a thick thorn hedge, with an upper and 
lower line of canes thatched in horizontally to keep it 
regular. In one place I saw men pitching stones at a 
mark, much like quoits, and while in Italy often noticed 
this game and that of throwing to knock one stone 
off another. I saw a few people hoeing and as usual 
many groups of curious loafers in the shade, some of 
course asleep. As everywhere else, there were frequent 
chapels or at least shrines with ISIary and the Child, — the 
pictures judiciously protected from desecration by a wire 
screen, for I have seen, as near Terni, some sacred pic- 
tures cut and pencilled past recognition. In the cities 
there are similar shrines on the street corners, and fre- 
quently even in stores are such pictures with a candle 
burning before them. 

The imposing summit of St. Paul's was visible long 
before I reached it. This basilica, restored on the site 
of the ancient one after the fire of 1823, is T shaped 
with campanile at the place where the upper arm 
of a cross should be. The church made a deep im- 
pression on me. The nave is of two stories, rising to 



ENVIRONS OF ROME. '. 20I 

the same height as the transepts, while the four other 
aisles, two on each side of the nave, have but one story. 
The upper story has windows, and between these are 
good paintings of scenes from the life of Paul. Beneath 
them all around are medallion portraits of the popes, 
including Leo XIII. Alexander XII. about 1700 was the 
last pope with a beard, — and he had not much, — while 
before him for a dozen all had beards and before that 
on upwards the large majority were bearded. The 
columns, — of marble or monolithic granite, — were of 
the Corinthian order and the flat ceiling was divided 
into square gilded coffers. Despite the stained glass 
windows, which St. Peter's has not, this church unlike 
St. Peter's had a light, cheerful appearance. The altar is 
at the crossing of the nave and transept, under the old 
triumphal arch on which are hideous mosaics of Christ, 
with Paul on his left, and to his right Peter, of the pres- 
ent type although made in the fifth century, and under 
the altar rest the remains of Paul except his head, which 
with Peter's is in St. John Lateran. I walked back to 
the city from St. Paul's pretty tired but well re-paid for 
my long tramp in the neighborhood of Rome. 

On another occasion we spent several days near the 
Alban Lake, the scene of early Latin history before 
Rome was founded. We know now that the Latins were 
not fugitive Trojans as Virgil makes out and that JEneas 
and his son Ascanius, who is said to have founded Alba 
Longa, are mythical. But these poetical creations will 
not down at the bidding of modern critics, and they still 
walk the hills and sail the lakes as real as Pompey and 
Cicero, who did live there. Here was the seat of the 
Latin race when history dawns, and from here branched 
off the settlement on the Tiber which soon dominated 



202 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

the league of which it was a member and then little by 
little conquered the world. The country is beautiful 
and at every step rises some famous view or historical or 
literary association. Here often resided famous men of 
the republic, after them the emperors, and until our own 
times, too, the popes. 

To reach Albano we went by rail south from Rome 
for one hour and at the modest Hotel de Russie secured 
rooms at the unheard of price of two francs per diem, 
" tutto compresso." The morning after our arrival we 
undertook a trip to Frascati afoot, leaving shortly before 
eleven a.m., — it had rained up to that time, — and made 
it with many stops for views in about three and a half 
hours. We went past the Alban Lake and saw it, deep 
in the hollow of an extinct volcano, stretching two miles 
or so. On its west bank is a country or summer resi- 
dence of the popes, Castel Gandolfo, with exterritorial 
rights. The views are very pleasant, embracing the 
water with its tiny waves and the steep, wooded shores. 
Leaving the lake we passed over the Aqua Ferentina, 
the meeting place of the ancient Latin league, to Marino, 
and noticed in the gorge above the stream women wash- 
ing clothes in a common stone trough with slanting sides, 
the water fed by a spring. Frascati is a modern town 
of six thousand, and there we had an excellent dinner 
for two francs at the Trattoria Nuova. Above is the 
brick and plaster villa once owned by Lucien Bonaparte 
and the probable site of Cicero's Tusculanum. Marble 
cornices and statues, a soldier for one, and parts of 
columns found there are distributed around the grounds. 
The villa commands a wide view of the green Campagna, 
almost devoid of woodland, and Rome too was just 
visible — although the day was misty — and blue moun- 



ENVIRONS OF ROME. 203 

tains closed the horizon. Here Cicero at Tusculanum 
drowned his grief over his daughter's death in philo- 
sophic composition. I stood where were written those 
Disputations which I had read with so much interest at 
Princeton. 

Further up the hill was Tusculum itself, razed 1191 
by the Romans on account of its Ghibelline propensities. 
First the ancient basalt road led past a small amphitheatre 
in a hollow without the walls, and in it a lazy shepherd 
watched his flock. Inside the Tusculum walls, mere 
ruins now, was a house with statues imbedded in it, and 
further was a small theatre with seats intact and a cistern 
under the stage. It was so cloudy that we did not visit 
the arx for the view. 

We attempted to return to Albano by the east side of 
the lake, leaving the paved main road to Rocca di Papa 
at seven o'clock to go through woods. It was soon so 
dark that we could only tell the soaked road by the 
shimmer of the central part, which had been tramped 
into liquid mud. We had to walk at the side, treading 
in puddles and ditches and guarding our faces with our 
hands from the overhanging brush. So we went on for 
an hour and a half, lighting an occasional match to con- 
sult Baedeker's small map. The road divided in two 
often only to re-unite, and we would go different ways 
to test it, but at the one real separation we after all took 
the wrong branch, that away from the lake. It began 
to rain. Both of us were tired, my companion almost 
dropping in his tracks. The road became worse, and 
we finally knocked at the door of the second house, 
although like the first no light was visible. After a 
linguistic struggle which would have been amusing under 
Other circumstances, we learned that we were six miles 



204 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

wrong, on the road to Velletri. They led us up a ladder 
into a big room with a fireplace almost as large, and in 
this they re-kindled the bark fire and in monosyllabic 
Italian we discussed our situation with the gray whiskered 
peasant, the children, even to the baby, gathered in the 
fireplace. They invited us to spend the night and we 
did not hesitate long about accepting and eating some 
dubious fried fish and bread. They showed us then to 
the room of the old couple and we retired, — but not to 
sleep. My toes caught in the holes of the sheet as I got 
in. Then began attacks by all beasts of the bed that 
creep and crawl. Scratching but aggravated the evil. 
My friend suffered as much but stood it more philo- 
sophically, being more experienced, while I took a 
savage delight in throwing what I caught over on the 
young man of the family in the corner. Only towards 
morning did I obtain a little sleep. We left as early as 
possible, each giving two lire. They seemed disap- 
pointed, but we thought that this more than paid for our 
rest. We found our way to Albano without difficulty, 
and the remainder of the morning we employed in sleep 
and in the chase with encouraging results. 

In the evening we went through Ariccia and Genzano 
to the Nemi Lake, I having been baulked earlier the 
same day by rain. On the way we had from a viaduct 
of three superimposed arcades a fine view of the Ariccian 
Valley, well' under cultivation, — it also the flat crater 
of an old volcano. At Ariccia, by the way, Horace tells 
us he once spent the night. The women and children 
of these two small towns with dark skin and black hair 
well sustained their reputation for beauty. Lake Nemi 
was small, but three hundred feet deep, its banks as high 
again, and worthy the ancient name " Diana's Mirror." 



ENVIRONS OF ROME. 205 

Perfectly unruffled, " calm as cherished hate," it reflects 
marvellously both shore and sky. 

Monday we just missed the train from the baggage 
and ticket men's not being in their places, and had to 
spend another day at Albano. After dinner I ascended 
Monte Cavo, the ancient Mons Albanus, going the in- 
land road zigzag up the mountain side. Part of the 
way I walked the ancient Via Triumphalis, of irregular 
basalt polygons and five paces wide, with a raised stone 
edge in which at regular intervals some stones were 
higher than others. The Roman generals to whom the 
Senate refused a triumph celebrated one here for them- 
selves, going up this steep road to the Latin temple of 
Jupiter Latiaris. A plain monastery of Passionist Fathers, 
founded by Cardinal York, the last of the Stuarts, is now 
at the top, and its round garden wall contains some 
stones of the ancient temple foundations. The temple 
must have been very large. Of the many fragments of 
columns some are marble, some stone. I walked into 
the enclosure, knocked at the door, and asked the good- 
humored looking monk for water. He led me to a room 
and brought both claret and water. Upon my producing 
a couple of hard boiled eggs, pepper, salt and bread, he 
smilingly added roast chestnuts. My tramp had made 
me so thirsty that I came near drinking the whole flagon 
of wine, served in the usual round water flasks. On 
the walls of this room I saw several pictures of the 
Passionist Church at Hoboken, N. J., and the passage 
way was hung with scriptural and legendary pictures. 
As suggested by the guide-book I put in the chapel box 
fifty centessimi to make up for the entertainment. 

The view from without was beautiful and showed the 
neighboring places as in a panorama, for Monte Cavo is 



206 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

over three thousand feet above the sea level, the tallest of 
the hills surrounding the inner crator of a dead volcano. 
This inner crater is called Campo di Annibale, the sup- 
posed site of Hannibal's camp, and is broken at the rock 
of Rocca di Papa, while the ridge about the outer crater 
is interrupted by lakes Albano and Nemi. On this outer 
ridge to the other side lies Tusculum, and just beyond 
it, and invisible, Frascati. Several ranges were seen 
further to the south fading off into sharp peaks beauti- 
fully blue, and to the north on a line with the longer 
axis of the Alban Lake lay Rome, — large, white but in- 
distinct. The Tiber was visible at its bends, at this dis- 
tance silvery in appearance, and the mountains beyond 
faded into haze. Rome was but a dot in the vast, un- 
cultivated Campagna. 

Naturally my descent was rapid and disregarded 
roads. I returned via Palazzuola on the Alban Lake, 
just under the long white hewn cliffs of unrecognizable 
Alba Longa, the chief of the Latin towns before Rome's 
supremacy. Having yet time before dark, — I had left 
the hotel at two, got to the convent at four, left at five, 
and it was now six and a half, — I went from ALbano for 
a walk along the modernized Appian Way. I soon 
passed the so-called tomb of Pompey, — four superim- 
posed and lessening stories of brick with marble beams 
projecting. Pompey's villa was somewhere in the pres- 
ent Albano. Not far from the tomb I found the exit of 
the emissarius for the high water of the lake. The 
stream is but a small rivulet, feeding wash troughs. 
This work dates back at least to the siege of Veii by the 
Romans, B.C. 397, when this rock tunnel — seven feet 
high and thirty-six hundred feet long — was hewn to pre- 
vent a disastrous overflow. 



ENVIRONS OF ROME. 20/ 

Albano is south of Rome, and four hours to the north- 
east of Rome is Terni, celebrated for the falls of the 
Velino. The channels precipitating the river over the 
cliff were cut by the Romans less for beauty than to pre- 
vent it from overflowing the country on the plateau, 
having therefore somewTiat the same object as the eniis- 
sarius of the Alban Lake. I was once in Terni over- 
night, and a preliminary walk revealed the most tumble- 
down town I ever saw. The open stairways to the sec- 
ond floor are often in front on the street, for there is no 
sidewalk, and as usual there were many children about, 
some quite pretty. 

After passing a night at Terni, uncomfortable because 
of fleas, I went out by the new road along the banks of 
the Nera to see the falls. The road was excellent, as 
most are in Italy, the river rushing by its side in a very 
picturesque manner, shallow and all broken by rocks. 
The falls were beautiful but not grand enough to de- 
serve Byron's appellation of " a hell of waters." They 
are precipitated from a plateau into a pleasant valley, 
which extends in either direction. The central fall, 
with its tremendous main leap of three hundred feet, is 
between two smaller ones, of which the one to the left, 
however, is insignificant. I climbed a high hill on the 
opposite side of the valley by clinging to the young oak 
growth on its steep sides, and thence discovered that 
the plateau where the water came from was very flat, 
and I determined to get the view from above also. It 
was hot work at noon in April, but further down the 
road I found a bridge and was kindly shown by a 
farmer the path running zigzag up. He surprised me 
by refusing to accept a fee, — an unprecedented occur- 
rence. Perhaps I offered too little. After a long de- 



208 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

tour on the plateau, the road passed over Velino on a 
bridge built upon a lower Roman one with inscription, 
and at last from a house on a spur projecting in front of 
the cataracts I got an excellent view of them, as they 
fell into spray resembling heavy white smoke. A yet 
better view was obtained from the keeper's garden, and 
I then returned to Terni by the old road along the high 
mountain edge. Below me the streams joined and ran 
towards the town, on the other side was the new road, 
so far below that the little donkeys on it appeared no 
larger than ants, and on every hand were beautiful 
mountain and valley views that must be finer yet later 
in the spring when the trees are green. 

In all directions from Rome are ruins of towns or 
roads, and months could be delightfully spent in excur- 
sions. Rome itself, however, generally absorbs the at- 
tention of travellers, and its interesting and beautiful 
environs are too little known. Much as I regretted it, 
Terni, the Alban region, and the Appian Way were all I 
could visit, and my time in Rome itself drew to a close 
all too soon. 





CHAPTER XVI. 

THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS, 

DOME was as far south as we dared to go in hot 
*• ^ September and so I gave up the plan of re-visiting 
Naples and Pompeii. Early on the morning of Mon- 
day, September 7th, we turned our faces towards the 
north and from then on gradually worked our way 
homeward, the immediate goal being Paris, to be reached 
by easy stages, which with stops consumed five days. 
Time permitted hardly more than a week's stay even at 
Rome, Paris and London, and somewhat less at smaller 
places, so that we were often en route and found that we 
could not well endure more than six or seven hours at a 
time of cramped confinement in the European compart- 
ment cars. 

The railroad from Rome first skirts the south side of 
the ancient city, passing over the Appian Way by a span 
and giving us farewell views of the nearer mountains. 
In the Campagna we noticed canals for its better drain- 
age. Anciently Rome was surrounded by a well settled 
country, in which were some of the thirty cities of 
Latium, but with the decay of small farms from the later 
times of the republic and the growth of great ownerships 
14 209 



210 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

and pasturages less care was exercised, and malaria, no 
longer counteracted by the industry of man, has assumed 
full sway in this low country. Hardly one tenth of the 
land is now under cultivation. 

In a short while the beautiful blue of the Mediter- 
ranean came in view and for four days was almost con- 
stantly on our left. Here on the Maremme shore there 
was often a sandy beach, and, even where there were 
rocks, they were not precipices as we found them fur- 
ther north. The views were restful and pleasant rather 
than striking. The one of most interest to me was dis- 
tant Elba, the island given to Napoleon as a little empire 
after his abdication, and intended really as an honor- 
able prison, from which, however, he escaped to fight 
Waterloo. 

Our train avoided Leghorn and we were therefore 
called on to disembark at Pisa rather unexpectedly. 
The town is solidly built, but is not impressive and 
looks dead. We never would have dreamed from its 
present appearance that it was during the early Crusades 
an important seat of maritime commerce, rivalling Ven- 
ice and Genoa. For many years it ably and desperately 
resisted the arms of Florence, to whom, however, it be- 
came finally subject in 1509. 

Our hotel Nettuno on the Arno was good and reason- 
able, and after rest and dinner we sauntered through 
narrow and deserted streets, now cooler than at our 
arrival, to the square at the north-west corner of the 
town, which contains the four great monuments, — the 
Duomo, Campanile, Baptistery and Campo Santo. 

The Cathedral looks dingy and needs scrubbing off, 
as we saw them doing to the cathedral at Florence, to St. 
Mark's and to St. Peter's, but it is handsome withal. It has 



THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS. 211 

nave, double side aisles, transepts, an oval dome over the 
intersection, and towards the Campanile is a round apse. 
Externally it is, like the adjacent Baptistery and Campo 
Santo, of white and black marble, and, while a spire or 
higher dome would improve the building, the fayade of 
five tiers of semicircular arches is singular and imposing. 
In the front is buried its architect Busketus. Within the 
church the effect of the black and white marble is beau- 
tiful. The triforium, or walk around the nave at the 
height of the side aisles, crosses over the transepts under 
the dome to the choir apse. The multitude of semi- 
circular arches gives the place a Romanesque appearance, 
aided too by the flat lacunar ceiling and the classic 
pillars, fruits of Pisan victories in Italy and in Greece. 
The cathedral was begun in 1063 to commemorate the 
great victory at Palermo over the Saracen fleet. In the 
nave still hangs from the ceiling by a long rod the sway- 
ing lamp that suggested to Galileo the theory of the 
pendulum. It is of open iron-work with cupids or 
cherubs on it, and hung so low that I could reach it on 
tiptoe. 

Opposite the cathedral fagade is the round and domed 
Baptistery, itself ornate and containing a fine font and 
pulpit. We heard the remarkable echo there in all its 
beauty. The custodian uttered four successive notes 
and the conical vault took them up and repeated them 
for some time with flute-like variations. 

The Campo Santo or cemetery seen from the square 
is a low building approached by doors in its solid walls. 
Within, it is a marble colonnade surrounding an open 
court, dating back to the twelfth century, and the open 
mullioned arches facing the court are distinctly Gothic. 
It is a covered cemetery, the soil coming from Mount 



212 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Calvary. Quaint mediaeval paintings are on the wall, 
and monuments and tombs, many handsome indeed, 
along the sides. At one end are hung the great rusty 
chains which were unsuccessfully used to bar up the 
Pisan harbor. They were captured by the enemy, long 
suspended before the Baptistery in Florence, and only 
lately have been returned by the Florentines. 

Behind the cathedral is the white marble Campanile 
or leaning belfry one hundred and seventy-nine feet 
high, in eight stories of arcades. The steps ascend 
spirally around a central well, and in the arches of the 
open summit chamber are a number of bells that do 
their duty vigorously even yet. Rachel was too tired to 
ascend, but I did and dropped a piece of pottery and a 
piece of iron from the edge at the top and on my descent 
found them out twenty feet from the base. Wind may 
have somewhat influenced them, as the tower is said to 
be thirteen feet out of the perpendicular. This leaning 
is probably intentional, as it is not uniform. There is 
less of it at or near the ground. The structure is so 
solid that I did not experience the conimon feeling that 
it is going over. Except at the top there is no rail, and 
I was a little apprehensive on that account that / might 
go over, but my confidence was perfect that the me- 
diaeval building would not. 

The next day we made Genoa by rail. On the beach 
not far west of Pisa, but invisible from the train, was 
where poor Shelley's body was found cast up by the sea. 
When we reached the coast it was only to go through 
tunnel after tunnel, each long and noisy, with flashing 
views of a wild rocky coast and angry waves dashing on 
it into foam. The Mediterranean here near the shore 
was green, not blue as further south. We had unpleas- 



THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS. 213 

ant company for a while. Three or four rough country 
people, with more odor than manners, sat facing us in 
the narrow compartment, and their big feet left no safe 
place on the floor for ours. My Italian was poor and 
even the language of scowls seemed lost on them. The 
trip was thus not a very pleasant one, and only relieved 
by our discovering in Baedeker's list for Genoa the 
" Hotel Smith." The name was almost like home again 
and we selected that hostlery without hesitation. 

In front of the station at Genoa is a large monument 
with statue and allegorical figures and on it the inscrip- 
tion, " His Country to Columbus." He was not born 
here, however, but probably at Cogoleto, a few stations 
further on towards Nice. The American consul told us 
that even this is doubtful and that very little at all can 
be found out about the great discoverer except that his 
birth was probably 1436. Columbus led a seafaring life 
and as he says there was no place where ships sail that 
he had not been. After his study convinced him that 
the Indies could be reached by sailing to the west, he 
patriotically sought first to induce the Genoese govern- 
ment to make the expedition, but they declined. The 
king of Portugal declined also, and even Ferdinand and 
Isabella, busy with expulsion of the Moors, refused more 
than once before they finally patronized the pious and 
persevering mariner and reaped the fruit in the great 
discovery of October 12, 1492. 

Mr. Smith of the hotel turned out to be a pleasant 
Englishman who discovered that I was not one by my 
asking for an " elevator " instead of a "lift." But his 
comfortable house, entered from an alley and immedi- 
ately facing the gulf, had not this convenience, which 
we had heretofore found rather common in Italy. Here 



214 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

for the first time in many days we enjoyed the hixuries 
of hot water for bathing, milk toast to eat, The Times 
and Standard of London to read, and also a high double 
bed. Continental beds are all single, although often 
they put two of them in one room. 

Genoa rises beautifully in a series of terraces from the 
curved harbor which it half surrounds, and is the busiest 
city we saw in Italy. Its commerce is much greater now 
than that of its ancient rival, Venice. The masts on the 
water before us and the many lights of the shipping at 
night proclaimed that we had reached again a stirring 
commercial centre. Within the past quarter century the 
harbor has been improved by the government and by 
private munificence until now Genoa is the largest port 
in the kingdom. 

Genoa early conquered from Pisa supremacy over the 
western Mediterranean. She had eastern settlements, 
too, and for a long time contended on equal terms with 
Venice herself, but from the War of Chioggia she yielded 
the palm, and the growth of the Turkish dominion re- 
duced her power, too, as it did her rival's. Her govern- 
ment was never so firm as the Venetian, and the terrible 
civil contests of noble families, in which they opened 
the gates to foreign princes in order to wreak vengeance 
on each other, prevented Genoa from becoming a great 
Italian power, even before the famous invasion of Charles 
VIII. in 1494 introduced other than native arms and 
tendencies into Italian history. The noble palaces 
remain, but thus seem often monuments of family pride 
and unpatriotic struggles. 

Much of the next day we spent on the road to Nice, 
crossing the French frontier between Ventimiglia and 
the beautiful coast resort Mentone. The whole Riviera 



THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS. 215 

from Genoa to Nice has somewhat the same attractive 
character. The railroad when not one continuous 
tunnel, runs in sight of the water, often on its edge. On 
the one side is the blue sea beating on the bare rocks or 
coming up peacefully to wharves of towns, and on the 
other are the ever shifting mountains and valleys of the 
Maritime Alps, their sunny slopes covered with vines, 
fig, orange and lemon trees and the less familiar knarled 
and stumpy olives, or dotted with handsome villas sur- 
rounded by palms, tropical shrubbery and flowers. This 
coast is much frequented for its mild winters, but in 
summer too it looks enchanting and is resorted to for 
bathing. 

Near Nice, under the protectorate of France, is the 
little principality of Monaco, containing five and three 
quarter square miles, belonging to the independent 
Grimaldi princes. Its most famous spot is the luxurious 
gambling Casino at Monte Carlo, perched with towers 
and beautiful grounds on a hill above the railroad cut. 
It has half a million visitors a year, bvit the season ex- 
tends from December to April and was over when we 
passed. 

About ten miles further is Nice, the birthplace of 
Massena and Garibaldi, once Phocsean, then Roman, 
Provengal, Italian, and since i860 French. Near the 
station is an avenue of eucalypti, and the Avenue de la 
Gare, on which was our pleasant Hotel National, is a 
handsome boulevard, its sidewalks in front of the 
restaurants thronged at night in true French fashion. 
At the foot of this street we found (in Baedeker) the 
river Paillon, crossed by elaborate bridges and bordered 
by handsome parks, but in fact it was totally destitute 
of water, although in winter it is no doubt different. 



2l6 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Shade trees and gardens enabled us to enjoy the sea 
views with pleasure and our short stay here was very 
agreeable. 

We had been travelling heretofore with two satchels. 
I was anxious to lessen my load and forward one of these 
to Paris, as we had to other places, after filling it with 
clothing that would not be needed on the way. But 
freight they told me was unsafe and express I found 
would cost me nearly five dollars, so I preferred to 
handle them myself and spend the few cents necessary 
for the efficient porters who throng every station. These 
are not supposed to charge but always expect a sou or 
two. In Nice at the Credit Lyonnais we drew some 
French money on our letter of credit. At this bank 
they were rather gruff at best. After they had paid us 
the oihcials seemed in much trepidation, re-examined 
my signature, and held a council of war over the fact 
that I had put a curved flourish under my nanne instead 
of a straight one which was on the letter itself. How- 
ever, after critically eying my travel-stained gray suit 
and slouch hat and Rachel's face, they ungraciously 
let me keep the money. If there had been time before 
the train to go to another correspondent of Brown 
Brothers, I should myself have returned the money and 
calmed their fears. 

The trip from Nice to Marseilles presented somewhat 
the same mountain scenery, although rougher and barer 
because further inland. The only interesting sight was 
Toulon, surrounded by lofty mountains crowned by forts, 
where in 1793 young Bonaparte earned his first laurels 
by gaining a height that commanded the highest English 
fort and thus compelling an evacuation. The place is 
now the principal Mediterranean naval port of France 



THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS. 21/ 

and as we passed a war fleet lay there at anchor. Near 
Frejus further on the same man landed in 1815 on his 
escape from Elba, to play the last act of his eventful life 
and begin by a triumphal progress to Paris those famous 
hundred days which terminated so disastrously at 
Waterloo. 

Marseilles is a great and busy city, steep like Genoa, 
and like Genoa also with harbor and shipping coming 
up into the town, but unlike it in having wide and hand- 
some modern streets in all directions. That night by the 
electric light they were erecting a new building near our 
hotel in the fine Rue Cannebiere, and a neighboring 
storekeeper, quite Yankee-like, took advantage of the 
watching crowd to exhibit by stereopticon attractive 
pictures and advertisements. Streets, after the Parisian 
style, changed their names every few blocks. In London 
this may have an historical origin in the gradual growth 
of the city until two streets, originally distinct, con- 
nect and become one, but in France they do this malice 
prepense, when they re-construct a place. It has the 
advantage of helping to identify localities. No. 1000 
Broadway is very indefinite until New York establishes 
a uniform number of houses to a block. But if a place 
is known to be in Cheapside or on Rue Royale you can 
tell its general location even without any number. 

The next morning early we took a carriage from our 
comfortable Hotel de Geneve near the handsome Bourse 
and were soon on the accommodation train for Lyons. 
The railroad skirts the sea for a while, but follows the 
river Rhone from ancient Aries, of interesting history as 
capital once of a kingdom, and some of whose well pre- 
served Roman ruins are visible from the train, and we 
had then pleasant views all the way up to Lyons. The 



2l8 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

accommodating nature of the train was illustrated in its 
stopping for an hour at white walled Avignon, which 
period we consumed in a drive about that ancient 
town. 

At Avignon lived and died the Laura whom Petrarch 
loved and celebrated although she Avas married to an- 
other man and mother of a large family. Her grave at 
the church of the Cordeliers disappeared in the ravages 
of the French Revolution. Up to that event Avignon 
was papal property. After the long contest between 
Pope Boniface VIII. and Philip le Bel, king of France, 
the seat of papal government was moved in 1309 from 
turbulent Rome to more peaceful Avignon, where it re- 
mained for seventy years under French influence, and 
Clement VI. erected a great palace there. In its halls 
Petrarch was an honored guest at the time when in its 
dungeons lay imprisoned the man he had celebrated in 
verse, the great but erratic Rienzi, in the interval be- 
tween the Tribune's first and second times of power. 
During the Great Schism, which was finally healed by 
the Council of Constance, French anti-popes resided in 
this palace after the legitimate pontiffs had gone back to 
Rome. We drove there and saw the tall white building, 
now a French barrack but with traces yet of its old 
grandeur. It is on a hill, and, in the shady street by 
which we approached, the scaffolding was not yet re- 
moved from a colossal monument to the Republic. An 
historic contrast ! John Stuart Mill is buried at Avignon 
and the painters Vernet were natives of this place. 

We had not been able to stop at Nimes to see its 
Roman remains, nor did we see those of Orange except 
the triumphal arch visible from the train. Roman civil- 
ization was all powerful in Southern Gaul. Roman 



THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS. 219 

temples, statues, and arches are often found and the 
names of many towns show their Latin origin. The 
troubadour softness is still observed in the native speech, 
and history no less than poetry invests this country with 
peculiar charm. Orange is especially interesting to 
English speaking races as the place which gave its name 
to the Dutch princes of Orange, one of the greatest of 
whom became William III. of England. It had been an 
appanage of the house of Nassau for almost two centu- 
ries, but on the death of this William it was annexed to 
France by his great enemy, Louis XIV. Nearer Lyons 
is Valence, part of a principality once given to infamous 
Caesar Borgia, and then came Vienne, with Roman ruins, 
one of which is popularly known as Pilate's tomb. This 
irresolute Roman procurator is said to have been finally 
banished to Vienne and to have died there, although 
Lucerne's mountains also claim the doubtful honor of 
being his last residence. In the time of barbarian inva- 
sion and earthquake in the fifth century the litany and 
its prayer, '* Good Lord deliver us," is said to have origi- 
nated at Vienne. 

Lyons was found a bustling and handsome city, second 
only to Paris in size and greater than any other place in 
France as a manufacturing centre, particularly of silk. 
In the Hotel des Negociants we discovered that we had 
patronized a Drummer's Hotel, where every one ate as 
hurriedly as at a railway restaurant in America and 
ladies were not at all expected. Even the chambermaids 
are men. The public places of Lyons are interesting. 
In the Place des Terreaux not far off the revolutionary 
guillotine held high carnival where earlier Richelieu had 
had his rival Cinq Mars executed, and in the enormous 
Place Bellecour on the way back to the Station next 



220 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

day we saw an imposing equestrian statue of Louis 
XIV. 

Paris was now our goal, and the trip there from Mar- 
seilles consumed nine hours in a fast train which stopped 
but twice and even then but for a few minutes. There 
was such a scramble for seats on this limited express 
that but for a porter whom I had feed we would have 
fared badly. As it was, we lost our lunch, and, as there 
was no stop for dinner, I was glad enough at one halt to 
pay two francs for a cold half chicken. I do not believe 
that even the disagreeable French woman next us picked 
bones better than we did in our famished condition. 
She had tried to occupy three seats, and, when the 
bundles were discovered to be hers and had to give 
place to travellers, she piled them on the floor in every 
one's way. I removed them from in front of us, and she 
then tried to annoy us as much as elbows and general 
meanness would allow. When I ran to buy the chicken 
she put a satchel in my seat, and Rachel as promptly put 
it back on the floor. Her conduct disgusted even a 
benevolent priest who was in the compartment telling 
beads and taking snuff. If there is anything, however, 
I can succeed at with earnest effort it is being disagree- 
able, and I think that by the time she adjusted her hair 
and bonnet to get out at Paris she felt that we were at 
least as great nuisances as herself. 

The road near the city went through the Forest of 
Fontainebleau, but does not pass in sight of the chateau, 
famous for associations connected with Henry IV. and 
Napoleon. At Paris we left the train at the Gare de 
Midi, and it was a long and interesting drive, especially 
to Rachel, before we reached the little Hotel de la Con- 
corde in the Rue Richepanse. We had found this hotel 



THE RIVIERA ROUTE TO PARIS. 



22 I 



advertised in the Paris edition of the New York Herald 
bought on the train, and there, after much negotiation 
and showing of apartments, we were given a handsomely 
fitted front room on the second floor, to cost with early 
coffee, noon dejeuner and evening dinner fifty francs 
per week apiece. 




\^^^%^& 


^^^5 




^^M 






^^w^^ 


«^fe^^^^^ 


^^^^^^^^ 


^^^^B 




^^^£ 


s^=s 




^^^^^^& 


ll^^^^^^^^ 


^s 


^§ 




s 


^^s 


^^^K 


^s 


^^H 


^^^s 


^^fc 


JU 1^ 


^s 






^^^s 


^^^^9 


^^^^K 


^^^ 




^^^^ 




^^^M 


s^^^s 


^^^^^m 



CHAPTER XVII. 

PARIS, ITS HISTORIC MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS, 

jVT O city equals Paris in appearance, and only Jerusa- 
lem and Rome surpass it in historical interest. 

The north of Gaul became the country of the west 
branch of the German Franks, the capital under the 
Carolingians being Aachen. The East Franks lived 
about the Rhine in Avhat was afterwards called Franconia, 
of Avhich Frankfort survives. The noble defence of 
Paris by its Count Robert against the Normans in 885 
marked out that city and that family as possessing great 
qualities, and his descendant Hugh Capet in 987 became 
king and ancestor of a race of sovereigns who reigned 
almost until our own day. 

Paris was at first confined to the island in the Seine, 
which here runs from east to west with a great bend 
northwardly. On this island a palace was built by Hugh 
Capet and the church of Notre Dame erected during a 
later reign, but its bridges gradually made the suburbs 
on the mainland essential parts of the town. To the 
north of this island is the present heart of the city, 
clustered about the palace of the Louvre and its con- 
tinuation to the west, the Tuileries and Champs Elysees. 

222 



PARIS: MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 223 

To the south of the island is the Latin quarter, where 
the college of the Sorbonne dates from 1250 in St. Louis' 
time. The Louvre was begun under Francis L, who 
much improved the whole city, and the later Tuileries 
are about coeval with the massacre of St. Bartholemew 
in 1572. Henry IV. built a new stone bridge, Pont 
Neuf, from the north to the old city, Richelieu erected 
the present Palais Royal in the next reign, and Louis 
XIV. established the first boulevards, so named from 
the *' bulwarks " whose sites they took, and erected many 
of the prominent structures of the city. Under Napo- 
leon Paris was much improved by new streets, buildings, 
arches and in other ways, Louis Philippe also did much, 
while under Napoleon III. the Bois de Boulogne was 
opened, the city all but rebuilt, and numerous boule- 
vards and fine buildings everywhere made Paris acces- 
sible and handsome. The German bombardment of 
187 1 did not greatly injure the city, but the Communists 
destroyed the Tuileries, threw down the Column Ven- 
dome, burned the Hotel de Ville, and but for the early 
capture by the national government would have wrecked 
all the great monuments. The jDresent republic has re- 
paired the marks of these outrages and been able even 
further to beautify Paris. The place has grown steadily 
and now covers thirty square miles and has a population 
of two and a half millions, — five times what it was under 
Louis XIV. 

The first wall was erected by Philip Augustus in the 
twelfth century, but after Louis XIV. constructed the 
" Great Boulevards " on the site of the old fortifications, 
there was no substantial enclosure. That of Louis XVI. 
was only for customs purposes, Napoleon never thought 
of the possibility of a capture of Paris before it hap- 



224 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

pened, and it was left for Napoleon III. in i860 
thoroughly to fortify it. The Germans found the place 
impregnable and had to bombard and starve it into sub- 
mission. Balloons and carrier pigeons got out, but few 
got in. The Germans were impregnable in their turn 
and conquered all armies of relief and repelled a number 
of desperate sorties from Paris itself, the siege ending 
January 23, 187 1, after having lasted four months. The 
Communists failed to hold the fortifications afterwards 
against the national troops, who stormed them and in 
May fought their way through the streets over formidable 
barricades. This second siege was almost two months 
in duration. 

Paris is France. A successful revolution at the capital 
is always acquiesced in by the rest of France. The city 
has been but seldom in the hands of an enemy, but 
whenever it has this meant the submission of France. 
In the time of Joan of Arc the English held Paris while 
the maid and king still fought and successfully at 
Orleans, but then France was not so consolidated as 
during the last few centuries. We ordinarily think of 
Prussia as growing at the expense of other German 
states and criticise its methods. But the mark of 
Brandenburg has acted only on the example of the 
earlier county of Paris, which was also a " march," or 
frontier principality, to protect the country behind it 
against the Northmen. The Parisian count became a 
duke, in 9S7 a king, and his descendants have gradually 
acquired by intermarriage, force or fraud, Anjou, 
Bretagne, Normandy, Flanders, Aquitaine, Toulouse, 
Provence, Aries and other states which had also grown 
up within the limits of Gaul, many as old and some more 
cultured than energetic Paris, The name of France did 



PARIS: MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 225 

not rightfully belong to the Parisian country. The 
Carolingian kingdom, whose capital was Laon, contained 
the true West Franks and the name France was adopted 
when the Parisian dukes succeeded to the royal dignity, 
because the Parisian dukes were Franks, although their 
people were not to any great extent. These aggressive 
kings have also acquired parts of the Empire from time 
to time. Essentially France has been made by Paris. 
It is thoroughly loyal to Paris, too, and reverences it. 
Indeed, too much. The new republic did well to fix its 
seat at Versailles and it should have de-centralized the 
country by giving greater autonomy to the departments, 
which have since the Great Revolution been made up 
out of the old provinces and have superseded them. But 
the pressure was too great and the seat of government 
in 1879 went back to Paris. 

A little over a block south from our hotel was the 
Place de la Concorde, its obelisk on the site of the 
revolutionary guillotine. Here died Louis XVI., Marie 
Antoinette, Mme. Roland, Charlotte Corday, Danton, 
Robespierre and nearly three thousand others. There 
are handsome fountains off to the sides, and it was 
proposed to erect a great fountain in the centre, but 
Chateaubriand wisely said that no water could wash 
away the blood stains of the place. In the reign of 
Louis Philippe the viceroy of Egypt presented the obelisk 
of Luxor, erected in Thebes by Sesostris. It took years 
to move and re-erect the monolith, which is seventy-six 
feet high. On the Place the allies camped in 18 14 and 
1815 and here Prussian troops too in 1871, and it was 
later the scene of a battle with the Communists. 

From here extend to the west for miles the Champs 
Elysees, a much frequented park, narrowing to a favorite 



226 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

boulevard. Not far off on the right is the secluded 
Palais Elysee, where resides the president of the republic, 
as did Louis Napoleon when president, but originally it 
was the residence and property of Mme. de Pompadour, 
mistress of Louis XV. The vista west from the obelisk 
seems to end at the magnificent Arc de Triomphe of 
Napoleon, i6o feet high and almost as long, adorned with 
splendid sculptures, but from that eminence the avenue 
descends under other names between the Bois de Bou- 
logne and Neuilly until it crosses a bend of the Seine 
and becomes the route to Josephine's Malmaison. Near 
by at Reuil she and her daughter Queen Hortense are 
buried. Indeed the same highway crosses two other 
bends of the Seine and reaches St. Germain, famous for 
its beautiful park and the chateau where Louis XIV. was 
born and the exiled James IL of England lived. 

Across the Seine from the president's mansion, but a 
long way from it, is the Esplanade in front of the Hotel 
des Invalides, whose large gilded dome is visible far and 
near. The building was erected by Louis XIV. for 
disabled soldiers, but most of them now-a-days prefer to 
live in their own homes on pensions. In its court on the 
approach of the allies in 1814 were burnt many captured 
flags and the sword of Frederick the Great which Na- 
poleon had removed from the tomb at Potsdam. The 
veterans and the museum of war costumes and arms at- 
tract less attention, however, than the magnificent tomb 
of Napoleon in the Invalides church. Immediately be- 
yond the entrance hall is the great dome and in the floor 
beneath is an open circular crypt, surrounded by a mar- 
ble balustrade. Over this gaze at all times many visitors, 
who instinctively talk in whispers. The crypt is twenty 
feet deep and thirty-six feet wide, and around its sides 



PARIS: MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 22/ 

keep guard twelve Victories by Pradier, while reliefs be- 
tween tell of Napoleon's works of peace. From a mosaic 
pavement containing the names of his greatest victories 
rises the monolith sarcophagus of red granite, in which 
Louis Philippe in 1840 placed the remains of Napoleon, 
by agreement with England brought from St. Helena in 
accordance with the wish in the emperor's will that they 
should " repose on the banks of the Seine among the 
French people whom he loved so well." In the chapels 
in the corners of the building lie his brothers Joseph and 
Jerome, whom he made kings of Spain and Westphalia 
and who lost their crowns when he did. Napoleon's 
ambition aimed at a modern French empire that would 
represent the ancient Roman one as it existed under 
Charlemagne, and he had the same divine right of genius 
to found an empire, but the dream took no account of 
the intermediate growth of nationalities, and its success 
even under a Napoleon could be but temporary. 

Can any one standing by the great tomb fail to think of 
the humbler one not many miles away of the devoted, de- 
serted Josephine, divorced to secure an heir ? And the 
heir, poor boy, never reigned, while her grandson was 
emperor as Napoleon HI. But he too died in exile and 
is entombed at English Chiselhurst, and alongside him 
there lies his promising and unfortunate son, the Prince 
Imperial, killed by a Zulu while fighting under the Eng- 
lish flag to fit himself to be French emperor. And his 
mother, the Spanish beauty and French leader of the 
world of fashion and gaiety, is now a desolate and aged 
woman, a modern Niobe. She lately re-visited Paris. 
What must have been her thoughts ! 

Near the back of the Invalides is the Military School, 
fronting northwest on the Champs de Mars, the site of 



228 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

the Expositions. The Champs de Mars faces the Seine 
and there near the river is the Eiffel Tower, 984 feet high, 
of open ironwork. The four immense uprights of this 
colossus rest on deep foundations and unite under the 
first platform over one hundred feet from the ground to 
form triumphal arches. The uprights continue above 
this but gradually become one at the second gallery. The 
tower at the top is visible from all open places in Paris. 
The Champs de Mars was on July 14, 1790, the scene of 
the Fete de la Federation, when king and people before 
an altar swore to the new constitution, which it was 
hoped would prove a panacea. Talleyrand as bishop of 
Autun officiated. In about eighteen months the king 
was beheaded at the Place de la Concorde, a short dis- 
tance off across the Seine, the Reign of Terror held down 
the people, and Talleyrand had been disrobed and was 
learning as the necessary means of preserving existence 
that suave dissimulation which enabled him to serve in 
high oifice republic, emperor and king with equal facility. 
Returning from this visit to the Invalides and Champs 
de Mars towards the Place de la Concorde, chosen by us 
as the central point of modern Paris, we passed on the 
way, immediately opposite the Place, the Chamber of 
Deputies with its imposing front. Here two days after 
Sedan the crowds burst in and dissolved the Assembly, 
whose republican members, Gambetta among them, then 
met elsewhere and formed a new government. From the 
Place de la Concorde as we turn to face the Tuileries, on 
the left comes in the Rue Royale, extending but a short 
distance until it is cut off by the Madeleine with its high 
basement and Corinthian columns. This was designed 
by Napoleon as a Temple of Glory, but has since been 
finished as a church. 



PARIS: MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 229 

Going eastwardly from the obelisk along the Seine we 
passed through the plain Jardin des Tuileries. To our 
left was the site of the Manege where sat the great revo- 
lutionary conventions, and northwardly up the Rue Cas- 
tiglione three blocks away is the Place Vendome with 
Napoleon's column, imitating Trajan's. It is 142 feet 
high and its bronze reliefs of the Austerlitz campaign 
were cast from Russian and Austrian cannon. The Com- 
munists pulled down the column, but it was soon restored. 
Even Napoleon's statue is there again, taking the place 
of the tricolor of 1880, but he does not look safe on his 
thin legs. 

Continuing on we came to a beautiful garden, for the 
blackened ruins of the Tuileries, wrecked by the Com- 
munists and standing at my visit in 1880 were gone. 
Here died the Swiss guard when Louis XVI. and 
family fled in 1792 to the Assembly in the Manege ; here 
Napoleon lived, and so too all monarchs subsequently 
until the Empress Eugenie left it after Sedan. The 
Communists devoted this historic pile among many 
others to destruction and their work was here complete. 
The long wings connecting it with the Louvre so far as in- 
jured have been restored, but nothing could be done to 
this old palace of Catherine de' Medici, and the ruins 
have been pulled down. It leaves a great blank, as the 
quadrangle has now no front, and some large building 
or monument should be erected on the site. 

The court of the Tuileries extends eastwardly between 
the great mansarded wings for almost half a mile to the 
Louvre. Within the Tuileries, but dwarfed by them, 
stands the triumphal Arc du Carrousel, Napoleon's 
smaller reproduction of the arch of Severus at Rome, 
intended to commemorate by reliefs the campaign of 



230 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Austerlitz, On it for a number of years were St. Mark's 
bronze horses from Venice, returned after Napoleon's 
fall at the instigation of the Austrians — who had appro- 
priated Venice itself. The court, through which runs 
a busy thoroughfare to the Seine bridge outside, has 
been enormously enlarged under Napoleon III. by de- 
stroying the many houses intervening between the arch 
and the Louvre. Further east, where the court is 
narrowed by the double wings of Napoleon III. (them- 
selves each with smaller interior courts), is a monument 
and statue of Gambetta, who in the dark days of 187 1 
never despaired of the State. The monument is a stone 
pyramid, in front of which stands in bronze the Dictator, 
making one of his impassioned speeches, while all around 
are carved striking passages from his writings. 

To the right as we enter the square court of the 
Louvre from that of the Tuileries is the site of the 
original Louvre chateau of Francis I., but it was built 
over by Louis XIV. to make part of a larger and grander 
structure. The main face of the Louvre palace is to the 
east and there a noble elevated colonnade faces the open 
street and terminates this long connected series of public 
places and buildings lying between the Rue de Rivoli or 
its continuations on the north and the quais of the Seine 
on the south. 

But interesting buildings do not cease here. Further 
to the east across the street from the Louvre is the small 
church of St. Germain de I'Auxerrois whose bell tolled 
in 1572 the massacre of St. Bartholomew on a signal 
from King Charles IX. In that massacre, which was 
not confined to Paris, at least twenty-five thousand 
Protestants perished, and the weak, irresolute Charles 
himself died some months later of remorse. To the 



PARIS : MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 23 1 

north of the Louvre across the Rue de Rivoli are the 
immense Magasins du Louvre, stores which I believe 
interested Rachel more than the palace, and continuing 
eastwardly up the Rue de Rivoli or along the quai of 
the Seine we came in a few blocks to the Hotel de Ville, 
the municipal buildings, occupying a whole square, a 
magnificent new erection of the French renaissance 
style, built on the site of the old town hall. That had 
been the gradual growth of nearly five centuries and 
around it clung memories which ought to have been 
sacred even to Communists, for here after the fall of the 
Bastille Louis XVL assumed the tricolor cockade, made 
by Lafayette out of the red and blue city colors and the 
Bourbon white. Here Robespierre shot himself. Here 
in 1830 Louis Philippe embraced Lafayette, and here 
from the old steps on the fall of that king was proclaimed 
the republic of 1848. Here after Sedan Gambetta organ- 
ized the national defence which lasted through the siege, 
although he himself escaped in a balloon to become 
dictator at Tours. In this old Hotel were the Com- 
munist headquarters and at this point their main 
resistance. When they failed they fired the build- 
ing and either perished in the flames or were shot 
down without mercy by the government troops as 
they attempted to escape. Criminals had died here 
before. The place to the west was anciently called the 
Place de Greve and was the site of executions. Ravaillac, 
Damiens and Cartouche died there and to its lamp- 
posts the mob hung the royalist financiers, the first 
victims of the great Revolution. 

The event of greatest interest in that struggle was the 
fall of the Bastille. This oblong, gloomy fortress towered 
further east at a place to which leads now the Rue St. 



232 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Antoine, a continuation of the Rue de Rivoli, and the, 
spot is marked by a bronze column, erected in 1840. The 
fortress or Bastille St. Antoine dates back to the four- 
teenth century and was originally used for state prisoners, 
such as the unknown Iron Mask of the time of Louis 
XIV. Its walls were ten feet thick and very high, with 
eight towers, and its cannon commanded the east entrance 
of the city and the restless artisan faubourg St. Antoine. 
On July 14, 1789, it had a garrison of little more than 
one hundred, many of these old veterans unable to fight, 
and when the mob attacked resistance was useless. Com- 
mandant De Launay surrendered at last, but he and his 
officers were murdered on the spot. 

In the Seine are two islands, the larger of which ex- 
tending from opposite the Hotel de Ville to near the 
Louvre, is the site of the original town, and is still 
called lie de la Cite. Count Robert of Paris could walk 
over the island which he so valiantly defended and 
would not recognize it. The muddy Seine protected 
this, the original city, but the river now is far below the 
new level, and presents no views and forms no part of 
Parisian life. It is crossed by a number of fine bridges 
at this island, as well as others above and below. The 
west end is reached from the north bank by Henry IV's 
Pont Neuf, which crosses also the other arm of the river 
to the quarters south, and where this bridge touches the 
island stands an equestrian statue of Henry IV., the 
first and greatest of the Bourbons. The republic melted 
down the original statue into cannon, and on the Restora- 
tion Louis XVIII. spitefully re-cast the statue of Napo- 
leon taken from the Column Vendome and a statue of 
General Dessaix to re-make the monument of Henry IV. 
Going eastward the length of the island we found ex- 



PARIS: MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 233 

tending all but clear across it the massive Palais de 
Justice, the handsome seat of the numerous higher 
courts, and occupying the site of the royal palace. The 
lower part adjoining the north branch of the Seine was 
the Conciergerie, a prison of the Revolution, in one of 
whose round towers Marie Antoinette as a prisoner 
became gray in a night, and the room next it was after- 
wards Robespierre's cell. In the central court of 
the Palais is a small but beautiful Gothic church sixty- 
six feet high with famous stained glass, the Sainte 
Chapelle, built by St. Louis as the palace chapel, its 
lower story the chapel for domestics. It has all but 
miraculously escaped destruction more than once when 
the palace around it burned, the last time being when 
that was destroyed by the Communists. 

Further east are the Hotel Dieu, a great hospital, and 
the Prefecture, the head of the system of ten thousand 
Parisian police, and then on the south side of the island 
comes Notre Dame, a handsome church, cut off on the 
north by high buildings but presenting a fine appearance 
from the south. It stood on a flight of steps, but the 
grade has been so much raised that the cathedral is now 
on the general level of the surrounding streets. Its two 
towers are still without spires, for, although the Gothic 
style originated in North France, her great metropolis 
has never finished this church. The main approaches 
in front are under the towers, and in the recessed door- 
ways are quaint carvings, and high up in one series 
across the fagade are the kings of France. This facade, 
divided into three horizontal sections and these again 
each into three vertical ones, dates from the thirteenth 
century, but the main church is in parts earlier. A 
marked feature of French Gothic, seen often in Paris, is 



234 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

the beautiful large round window. There is one in the 
main front of Notre Dame between the towers and one 
or more in the fagade of each transept. Inside, the 
massive round pillars of the nave attest the age of the 
structure, and the beautiful stained glass of the main 
church, as well as of the high transepts, sheds around a 
dim religious light. In these solemn precincts Maillard, 
the ballet girl, was enthroned during the Revolution as 
the Goddess of Reason, and a great orgie was held in 
her honor, and here later Consul Bonaparte was crowned 
as Emperor Napoleon. 

Behind the rear flying buttresses of the cathedral is a 
plain building of a very different character, the Morgue, 
where bodies of people found in the river are exhibited 
for identification. They lie naked there on the inclined 
marble slabs behind glass, several at a time, water pour- 
ing over them. It is a ghastly sight which cannot be 
forgotten and had better not be seen at all by those not 
of strong nerves and stomachs. There are some acci- 
dental drownings, but most are suicides, the desperate 
end of those ruined by pleasure, overburdened with 
trouble, or wild with remorse. The muddy Seine sees 
about eight hundred of these dramas a year. 

Near the Luxembourg (where the Senate sits) south 
of the river is where the gallant Marshal Ney was shot 
for treason at the Restoration because, when sent against 
his old master on Napoleon's return from Elba, he 
yielded to his feelings. In sight of his place of execu- 
tion rises the dome of the Pantheon, the resting place of 
distinguished Frenchmen, but not now a Christian 
church, although once sacred to St. Genevieve, the 
patron saint of Paris, who was buried here. In the 
vaults I saw the empty marble sarcophagus of Voltaire 



PARIS: MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 235 

and a wooden one of Rousseau, whose bodies were 
spitefully removed to some unknown spot at the Restora- 
tion. Soufifiot, Marceau, Lannes, La Grange, and Victor 
Hugo were also buried in the Pantheon. 

Other great dead are in buildings, but there are many 
cemeteries also. The most interesting is Pere la Chaise 
north of the Seine and near the east end of Paris. It is 
kept like a garden and is a beautiful and favorite resort. 
So far as art can do it death is here robbed of its terrors. 
Trees, flowers, lawns and sculptures border winding 
walks and drives over hill and dale, and great names at 
every step bring up past ages. I still recall some of the 
tombs. That of Abelard and Heloise was a Gothic 
canopy, Casimir Perier a statue, Thiers a chapel, St. Cyr 
a monument and statue, McDonald a tomb, Monod a 
column, so Scribe, Suchet an elaborate tomb, and Ney 
an uninscribed, flowery grave. To Racine was a chapel, 
Lafontaine and Moliere were together, their sarcophagus 
above on pillars. Gay-Lussac had a slab with flowers, 
Balzac a fat bust on a column, Michelet a small tomb 
with open book. Cousin a large tomb, Arago a fine bust, 
and Musset another, bearded. Rossini was once there, 
but has been removed to Santa Croce. If the dead 
could speak, surely they would prefer the blue vault of 
heaven here to any other roof, with nature and art so 
harmoniously blended around them. 

North of Paris, on a bend of the Seine, is St. Denis, 
where were interred the ancient kings whose remains 
were later, by decree of the Republic, thrown into a 
common pit, but restored by Louis XVIII. to the crypt. 
He also brought there from the Madeleine the bodies of 
Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, and is buried here 
himself. The cathedral is an example of the earliest 



236 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Gothic, built in the twelfth century by the abbot Suger, 
and its oriflamme was adopted as the royal standard, 
used when the king went to battle. Here Joan of Arc 
hung up her arms, Henry IV. became Catholic, and 
Napoleon married Marie Louise, — for even the suburbs 
of Paris are full of history. 

South-west is Versailles, an inland city of fifty thou- 
sand people, built by Louis XIV. as a residence because 
from St. Germain he could see St. Denis and it reminded 
him too much of royal tombs. A worse site could not 
be selected and the many millions spent made after all 
only a flat palace, fronting on stiff and artificial grounds. 
At the rear, which is the approach from the town, the 
wings make a court, while in front the long monotonous 
fapade looks down on an avenue in which the Tapis 
Vert of grass extends to the large Apollo and Steeds 
fountain. Beyond this is a large sheet of water in the 
shape of a cross, whose right arm reaches to the grounds 
of the chateaux known as the Trianons. The gardens are 
extensive and are laid off in geometrical figures, wath 
trees trained to arch overhead or to make frames for dis- 
tant views, and the pavement is but the natural earth. 
The fountains now" pl^-y only on stated occasions, but are 
magnificent, especially when illuminated with colored 
lights. 

The palace was richly gilded, mirrored and frescoed, 
but the finery is now tarnished. In Louis XIV's 
bedroom is still shown his ornate square bed behind a 
railing. Here he dressed in public, and here he died. 
In the (Eil de Boeuf near by, a room with an oval win- 
dow, the courtiers intrigued as they waited for the king 
to rise in the morning, and from a balcony in front of 
the bedroom the chamberlain announced his death by 



PARIS: MONUMENTS AND ENVIRONS. 237 

breaking his baton and crying, " Le Roi est mort ! " and 
as he took up a new one he exclaimed, " Vive le roi ! " 
The apartments of Marie Antoinette were small and 
upholstered in yellow, and in one corner behind a sofa 
mirrors meet at such an angle that in looking in them 
she would see herself headless. I tried it and it was 
startlingly realistic. Near in the magnificent Galerie 
des Glaces by a strange turn of fortune's wheel, Wilhelm 
I. was proclaimed German emperor on January 18, 1871. 
No French sovereign has resided in the palace since 
Louis XVI. was taken thence in 1791 by the mob of 
Parisian women, never to return, and Louis Philippe 
utilized it for a great collection of historical paintings, 
portraits and busts, brought from the Louvre and else- 
where. The many battle scenes represent only French 
victories, and Wilhelm must have looked over them 
rather grimly when as conqueror he took possession. 
The Prussians used the building as an hospital, Marshal 
MacMahon from it directed the recovery of Paris from 
the Commune, and the Assembly sat here from then 
until 1879. C)ff somewhat to one side in the Grand 
Trianon resided Mme. de Maintenon, legitimately 
married to Louis XIV., whom she greatly influenced, 
and in the Petit Trianon lived Mme. du Barry, mistress 
of Louis XV. after the death of Mme. de Pompadour. 
In the Grand Trianon in 1873 also Marshal Bazaine was 
tried and condemned for the surrender of Metz. 

I once went from Versailles to the ruins of St. Cloud, 
burned by a shell during the siege of Paris, whether 
French or Prussian is disputed. The front was towards 
a hill which commands a fine view of Paris, a re-entrant 
court faced the Seine, and back of the chateau is an 
extensive park. Here Bonaparte dispersed the Council 



238 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

of Five Hundred and here he resided much as emperor, 
as did Napoleon III. after him. The building was 
thoroughly gutted when I saw it and the garden a 
wreck. The government has of late heartlessly auc- 
tioned off these black but historic ruins as so much 
rubbish. Through the great park I walked over to 
Sevres near by and went through its interesting porcelain 
manufactory and beautiful collections, and returned to 
Paris by boat, but the river is so far below the city level 
that I could see nothing except the bridges and high 
stone embankments. 





CHAPTER XVIII. 



PARIS : THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS. 



f IFE in Paris is full of interest quite apart from the 
'-^ history that speaks to one on every side. The art 
collections are hardly equalled, the stores are attractive, 
the streets handsome, the wider ones with trees being 
called boulevards. The principal avenues are paved 
with noiseless asphalt or with wood, but side streets, like 
the Rue Richepanse on which was our hotel, are still of 
cobble stones. Stone is not favored by the authorities 
because on any uprising of the lower classes it makes 
too good a barricade. 

Our hotel was very satisfactory. In the reading room 
were periodicals and French and English newspapers, 
there was a little parlor containing a piano of fair quali- 
ties, and the meals were beyond compare. Every morn- 
ing at eight or any hour we pleased we had coffee with 
cold bread and butter, at noon came dejeuner, really a 
hot lunch in several courses, and at six was regular fa^/e 
d'hote, which included soup or fish, two courses of meat, 
vegetables, pastry, fruit and coffee. We used to think 
that gdteau stood for cake, but we found that no word 
except patisserie would bring it. We had wine at 

239 



240 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

lunch and also at dinner. Every one takes wine, even 
children, but it is diluted with water. We took ours 
with sugar and water, sangaree, to the disgust of our 
neighbors. Water seemed to be good, reports to the 
contrary notwithstanding. The sewer arrangements are 
not good, however, for the great sewers we hear of are 
mainly for surface drainage into the Seine. The sewage 
farms below the city at Gennevilliers, however, will 
probably finally solve the problem of sanitary sewerage. 

We got along very well with our landlady until we 
asked questions as to shopping. Then suddenly persons 
she named to us as responsible began calling on us Avith- 
out solicitation, and, after we found out that these were 
dearer than others we went to and we would not patron- 
ize them, Madame became distant and for a while hardly 
treated us with civility. 

As it was, money melted away in Paris faster than 
anywhere else. Rachel had saved up her shopping so as 
to avoid lugging much around. Some stores tried to 
pass off inferior articles, but we found good places. A 
great institution is the Magasin, where under one roof is 
everything in the clothing and house furnishing line. 
There are a half dozen or more of these establishments. 
We patronized three, — the Gagne Petit on the Avenue 
de rOpera where was a clever interpreter who had lived 
in England, the Magasins du Louvre opposite that 
palace and largest of all, and the Bon Marche away 
south of the Seine and cheapest of the three. The 
Magasins answer somewhat to the Stores of London. 
Ladies' supplies we found best in Paris, men's in London. 
The French seem to affect English goods somewhat as 
we do in America, for there was much for sale. In the 
Magasins dummies stand around ready dressed, a visitor 



THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS. 24 1 

selects a dress thus shown, modistes take it from the lay 
and fit it to the human figure on the spot, and the next 
day the finished gown is delivered. The beautiful satin 
flowers and the gloves we found particularly cheap. We 
went all over the Palais Royal shops of jewelry and 
then found such things best and cheapest at Tiffany's. 
It required Rachel's French and my gesticulations to 
get along with the shop keepers. As we wrote home, 
we spoke all languages indifferently. 

For sight-seeing the many connected omnibus routes 
afforded us fine facilities, except that on Sundays it was 
sometimes hard to get a seat. An inside cushioned place 
costs thirty centimes and the hard bench on the top half 
as much, but the view is so much better than from with- 
in that we always went above, despite the inconvenient 
little winding stair at the back. The Madeleine, hardly 
a square from our hotel, is a stauting-place for several lines 
and one noisily passed our very doors, so that we were 
favorably situated. There are few street car lines and 
walking is almost out of the question for long distances. 

A promenade, however, from the Madeleine down the 
great boulevard to the Opera and from the Opera down 
the Avenue de I'Opera towards the Louvre is a long 
walk, but the monotonously handsome buildings with 
mansard roofs, magnificent stores, crowds of people of 
every condition, the fast driving of all kinds of vehicles, 
and other street sights make this a fair sample of Paris, 
and here too are Tiffany's, the New York Herald read- 
ing room and other names familiar to Americans. It is 
almost at the risk of one's life sometimes that he ven- 
tures to cross the boulevard, even with the aid of the 
refuges provided in the streets, for the police offer no 

assistance and attempt no control over the furious driv- 
16 



242 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

ing. The boulevards all have trees along the sidewalks, 
kept up at great expense. At night chairs and tables in 
front of cafes are crowded until a late hour with people 
sipping ices or drinks. This custom prevails all over the 
city and indeed over France and is one of the character- 
istic after-dark features of French life. 

The Opera — or Academic Nationale de Musique, as 
the inscription in front has it — is a magnificent Renais- 
sance building of many colored marbles, erected on a 
terrace. It was begun by Napoleon III. and completed 
by the Republic. The front is a rather too uniform 
portico of two and a half stories, and the ends being en- 
trance pavilions crowned with statuary, of which also 
there are groups between the piers below. The audi- 
torium dome takes the shape of a crown surmounted by 
an Apollo group, while behind, highest of all, rises the 
square part containing the scenic arrangements. Within 
the portico is the beautiful foyer across the front, be- 
tween the acts full of promenaders, and next in a great 
hall is the magnificent marble stairway to the upper floors, 
ornamented with sculptures and frescoes. The audi- 
torium seats twenty-one hundred and fifty-six, less than 
several other theatres, but its appearance is unequalled. 
In the parquette only men seem to sit, but the boxes and 
shallow galleries in four tiers are patronized by both 
gentlemen and ladies. 

During our visit in September the German opera 
Lohengrin was rendered amid great excitement. The 
French are still bitterly hostile to the Germans, and the 
Boulangists — for it was some days yet before their 
exiled leader so unexpectedly committed suicide — de- 
termined on a great demonstration against having this 
German piece given at the Opera, which is subsidized by 



THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS. 243 

the French government ; although Lohengrin had 
already been rendered several times in France, at Rouen 
for example with great success. We were present at 
the second performance in Paris, and at times wished 
that we had not come. It was interesting but threatened 
to be a tragedy. We paid fifteen francs to the specu- 
lators for three-franc seats on the top floor and shortly 
after our arrival saw every seat occupied in the whole 
house except a few boxes. On our way through the 
dense crowd in the Place de I'Opera in front a police- 
man stopped us, but let us pass on my assuring him that 
we had tickets, and we entered and ascended to our 
places. The audience received the opera not only kindly 
but enthusiastically, applauding and bravoing every good 
part. At the end of the first act every one hurried to 
the foyer and the balconies in front to see the crowd 
outside. The scene in the streets was memorable. The 
open place in front was occupied by a large hollow 
square of gens d'armes and behind was a surging mass of 
men. Every few minutes the police would arrest two 
or three of them and march them off. In the house 
when before the second act the stage manager announced 
that the heavy villain of the opera had a bad cold and 
that the audience must bear with him, some man down- 
stairs proposed that we sing the Marseillaise hymn so 
as to help out, and immediately the whole audience 
rose to their feet and went wild with bravos and hisses. 
The man was arrested and taken out, and no Marseil- 
laise was sung. Up by us three or four men during this dis- 
turbance were particularly vociferous, and a handsome 
man in a dress suit suddenly arose and called out, 
''''Silence^ silence^ sil votis plait" and jerking out a tricolor 
ribbon wrapped it around his waist. A dozen gens d'armes 



244 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

at his signal quietly slipped in and took permanent stand 
along the walls, and then the uproar ceased. Every now 
and then there was some noise, but evidently coming 
from a very small coterie. Our protector with the tri- 
color was very active. He spotted three men behind us 
and warned them, and shortly afterwards they took 
occasion in the middle of an act to get up and leave, 
making as much noise as they could, but Mr. Tricolor 
went out at the same time, and I doubt not arrested 
them. One was a villainous looking fellow, and de- 
served arrest for having such a face. 

A great sight of Paris in May and June is the Salon, 
the annual exhibition of art at the Palais de I'lndustrie 
— in the Champs Elys^es, erected for the first French 
Exposition, that of 1855. Here we find the new paint- 
ings, and in the Luxembourg palace works of the past 
few years, but the permanent art galleries of Paris are in 
the Louvre. There are the great collections of paint- 
ings, statues, ancient marbles and monuments, ethno- 
graphical and naval exhibits, and historical objects of 
all kinds. 

Many of the rooms in the Louvre are handsomely 
decorated and make a worthy setting for the collec- 
tions. The finest is the Gallery of Apollo, decorated 
with wall paintings and tapestry, and on tables are objects 
of art under glass, some protected also by railings. The 
enamels there are the finest existing. Prominent is 
a boat epergne of the time of Louis XIV., made of 
lapis lazuli, and in the middle of the room, guarded 
by a soldier, is what is left of the crown jewels since 
the sale in 1887. Largest of these is the Regent 
diamond, an inch wide and somewhat longer, cut to a 
point an inch below the face. Near are the crown and 



THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS. 245 

sword of Napoleon, and many fine stones and jewels 
are in the room. 

On the ground floor is the statuary, entered from the 
court, in the north-west part the modern and in almost 
all the rest ancient pieces. Among the older ancient 
sculptures the Egyptian and Assyrian collections are par- 
ticularly famous. The Egyptian are characterized by 
massive solidity and fine polish, some of the earlier by 
naturalness. These saloons are devoted to historical, 
civil, and funereal objects from Egypt, including a 
papyrus Book of the Dead. Opposite are the Assyrian 
antiquities, mainly consisting of huge wanged bulls with 
human heads, lions, men with plaited hair and beard, 
everything of exaggerated muscular development, and 
near are Phoenician and other Asiatic collections, in- 
cluding the Moabite column of King Mesa, which added 
so much to our knowledge of the races just east of the 
Jordan in the ninth century B.C. 

Among the ancient treasures, but in a different part of 
the palace, are also the Persian glazed picture tiles and 
other antiquities from Susa and Persepolis, exhumed in 
1885 by M. Dieulafoy, that have shed a flood of light on 
the history of the Persians. They represent the royal 
archer body-guard known as the Ten Thousand Immor- 
tals, besides lions and fancy designs, all enameled in 
beautiful colors. Egypt and Assyria have become better 
known to us because of religious explorations, but they 
were peopled by races alien to us and attract us mainly 
by their grandeur. Persian art is later, but it is more 
graceful and has the attraction of being the work of our 
own kin. " Cyrus, the king, the Achaemenian," as he 
entitled himself 529 B.C. on his rifled tomb at Pasar- 
gadae, was the first great man of our Aryan race. This 



246 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Dieulafoy collection relates mainly to the palace of 
Darius at Susa of about 500 b.c. The carved marble 
columns and doorways of Darius' palace and the 
columns of Xerxes' hall at Persepolis had long been 
known, but the discovery of these tiles takes us closer 
to the Persian lives of the older and better time. The 
Persians had left their highlands, conquered all west of 
them, and had somewhat degenerated before they came 
much in contact with the Greeks. Alexander at Issus 
333 B.C. encountered their empire in its decadence, but 
even then in each battle the Persians beat back his 
famed Phalanx, and it was only by his cavalry and 
because opposed to a Darius who was no general, if he 
was not indeed a coward, that Alexander conquered his 
way to the Persian throne. He became himself all but 
Persian after he married the king's daughter. 

But there is no doubt that art reached its human per- 
fection only in the little Greek states and colonies. The 
abundance of marble, the eesthetic sense of the people, 
their fondness for travel and their popular constitutions 
united to produce the greatest development of art in the 
history of the world. They began where the orientals 
had left off, and left off where the moderns cannot fol- 
low them. Rome was great in war, law and organiza- 
tion, but even Rome borrowed her art from Greece. 
Greek slaves copied Greek models for the statues and 
paintings of Roman palaces, and most of the admired 
sculptures which have survived to us are such copies. 

Among the Greek and Roman sculptures in the 
Louvre one of the most famous is the recently discovered 
Victory of Samothrace standing on the prow of a vessel, 
erected by Demetrius, son of Alexander's general Seleu- 
cus, who was equally great as a soldier and as an admiral. 



THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS. 247 

I have myself a beautiful didrachm with the handsome 
face of Demetrius on one side and an eagle and trident 
on the other. The Venus of Milo, found by a peasant 
on that island in 1820, stands in an arcade at the end of 
one gallery of sculpture, and, despite the loss of both 
arms and the pits on the face and bosom from earth 
corrosion, it is still a noble work. She is over life size, 
draped from the waist down, and probably held a shield 
resting against her bent left knee and on it was record- 
ing some hero's name. If so, she was as likely a Victory 
as a Venus, although Venus sometimes held the shield 
of Mars. Who was the sculptor no one knows, and it 
is a great tribute to ancient art that the surviving pieces 
we most admire do not even seem to have attracted the 
special attention of the Greeks or Romans. This Venus 
is Greek, but ancient authors do not name it. It prob- 
ably dates after Phidias, whose work on the Parthenon 
about 450 B.C. survives in part, but before Praxiteles, the 
creator of the famous Cnidian Venus in the fourth cen- 
tury B.C. The calm repose of this Melian goddess 
contrasts strongly with the mundane beauty of the 
Venus de'Medici at Florence, — it is the heavenly Venus 
on the one hand and the earthly Venus on the other. 
The huntress Diana here in the Louvre accompanied by 
a fawn, seems a companion piece to the Apollo Belvi- 
dere, as she strides along, taking an arrow from her 
quiver and looking earnestly forward, and the Diana 
like the Apollo is thought to be a Roman copy of a 
Greek group and to date from the last century B.C. 
Historically not less interesting is one of the roonis of 
statuary in the original Louvre building where the Ligue 
met and Guise hung some of its members. There, too, 
Henry IV. married Margaret of Valois and in this room 



248 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

after his assassination in 16 10 his body lay in state. Al- 
most fifty years later Moliere acted here in his own 
plays and thus relieved somewhat the gloom of its asso- 
ciations. 

Among the Renaissance sculptures are Michael An- 
gelo's two Fettered Slaves, designed as a part of the never 
to be finished tomb of Julius II., representing chained 
and dying arts, and in the modern department are 
numerous works and busts by Houdon, Chaudet and 
others, amid them Canova's Cupid and Psyche like the 
group on Lake Como. 

The Louvre galleries contain also two thousand paint- 
ings and as a general collection this is probably the most 
valuable in the world. It is mainly on the first floor of 
the south extension of Napoleon III. The Salon Carre 
there has many of the finest pictures of all schools. 
Among them are Correggio's Betrothal of St. Catharine, 
his Antiope approached by Jupiter disguised as a satyr, 
of which in another room is a painting by Titian, Murillo's 
Immaculate Conception, Titian's Mistress at her Toilet, 
with its wonderful light and shade, Leonardo's smiling 
portrait of Mona Lisa, once famous for its color but now 
almost obscure, Raphael's St. George and Dragon, his 
Madonna and Child with St. John, called La Belle Jardi- 
niere, Gerard Dow's dying Dropsical Woman with her 
daughter weeping, and Paolo Veronese's enormous Mar- 
riage at Cana, famous for its colors and portraits. The 
largest room is called the Grande Galerie, in which is a 
female portrait by Leonardo and a Holy Family also by 
him, Titian's fine portrait of Francis I., not from a sitting 
but from a medal, his Christ and two disciples eating at 
Emmaus, a subject also treated by Rembrandt in the 
same room, Guido Reni's Ecce Homo and his Magdalen, 



THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS. 249 

also portraits by Velasquez, and at least historically valu- 
able an early picture by Van Eyck. There are also in 
this room a great many paintings by Rubens, including 
the large pictures celebrating the life of Marie de Medicis, 
widow of Henry IV. and regent during the minority of 
their son Louis XIII. These were painted for the Lux- 
embourg, which she built after her first banishment. She 
finally was found too intriguing and was exiled for a 
second time and died at Cologne. 

The Louvre has naturally the finest collection of French 
paintings to be found anywhere. Nicolas Poussin was 
the first great master and his most famous picture in the 
Louvre is a painting representing Arcadian Shepherds 
finding a tomb on which they spell out " Et in Arcadia 
ego." Claude Lorraine's landscapes are numerous and 
delightful, while Watteau and Boucher represent the 
Rococo time of the regency and Louis XV., and the later 
Greuze pleasantly paints the Marriage Contract, Girl and 
Broken Pitcher and other humble domestic scenes. The 
study of the antique and the aspirations of the Revolu- 
tion were represented by David, whose Sabine Women 
and Leonidas at Thermopylae are well known, but rather 
statuesque and theatrical. There were other painters of 
the Napoleonic era who devoted themselves to battle 
scenes, in which they have many modern followers too. 

In 1819 what is called the era of the Romanticists 
began with the exhibition of Gericault's large Raft of the 
Medusa, a group of survivors from shipwreck, which still 
commands instant attention. The romantic school 
painted striking scenes from history and poetry, and num- 
bered such names as Ingres, (1781-1867,) Eugene Dela- 
croix, (1799-1863,) Ary Scheft'er, (1795-1858,) Horace 
Vernet, (1789-1863,) and Paul Delaroche, (1797-1856.) 



250 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

In the Louvre is found Ingres' Spring, considered the 
most beautiful example of the nude female figure in 
modern times. Horace Vernet was the great painter of 
French army life, particularly in Algiers, while Dela- 
roche's fame as an historical painter has lasted even 
longer. His Death of Queen Elizabeth attracts only less 
attention now than it did when first exhibited in 1829. 

Under the second empire Meissonier (1815-1891) was 
the head of the French school. He is better known in 
America as a battle painter, but is thought abroad even 
greater in smaller pictures. Troyon and Rosa Bonheur 
are animal painters of the first rank. Detaille and others 
paint military scenes and Millet peasant life, — his two 
peasants in prayer at the ringing of the Angelus is well 
known and much copied, — but the tendency of the sec- 
ond empire and third republic schools is too much to 
sensuous and nude figures. No doubt all things are pure 
to the pure, but Nature and History show that a nation 
of sensualists is in its decline. French art and French 
literature may throw light on Sedan and the Commune, 
for with Carlyle and Kingsley I believe that morality and 
strength go together. France needs not a political revo- 
lution, but a moral reformation. 

France is implacable for the loss of Alsace and Lor- 
raine and is but biding her time. These provinces may 
have been German once but the international statute of 
limitations should be considered as run when an acquired 
province has become re-nationalized and is a perfectly 
satisfied, integral part of the conquering country. Alsace 
and Lorraine in the hundred years in which they had 
been incorporated with France had become thoroughly 
French and are so still. It will not do to push matters 
of original ownership too far. America celebrates in the 



THE LOUVRE AND THE STREETS. 25 1 

Columbian Exposition an unparalleled appropriation of 
property. 

Even pleasant stays must end. At last for four dol- 
lars we sent on the trunk which had awaited us in Paris 
direct to our homeward bound steamer at Liverpool, 
while we made ready for a visit to England. One morn- 
ing we paid our bill to the grasping proprietress of the 
Hotel de la Concorde and left its delightful meals, vin 
compris, for the train to Dieppe. On our journey the 
scenery was pleasant and a view of Rouen's steeples in- 
teresting, but the trip was without special incident. 

At Dieppe we went aboard the Channel steamer for a 
wet and rough trip across to Newhaven. To save a few 
sous we carried our own satchels, and in consequence 
Rachel, who became separated from me in the crowd, 
slipped in the rain and fell backwards on her head. 
This put her in bed for the trip and for much also of 
our stay in England. I thus saved half a franc porter- 
age, and paid a doctor's bill of two pounds sterling in- 
stead. The Channel trip by this route occupied six 
hours and it was very uncomfortable. Rachel and I sat 
on a bench by the cabin until the spray and rain and 
the lurching of the little steamer as she was knocked 
about drove us below. Rachel's troubles, however, had 
but begun. They separate the sexes on this boat, put- 
ting the women in a room surrounded with two-story 
berths. Rachel had an upper one and was thrown out, 
striking an iron post and breaking one of the numerous 
basins in use by the seasick folks. I fared little better, 
for after crossing the ocean in safety I now surrendered 
to the Channel, and was humbly on my knees before a 
basin all the time that I was not on my back in a berth, 
too weak to do more than hold on. We were glad to reach 



252 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

land but could hardly walk ashore and get into the Lon- 
don train. The next time I shall take the Dover-Calais 
route, which requires but a little over an hour, or await 
the construction of the Channel tunnel, which the Eng- 
lish so strongly oppose. At present the country is safe. 
It can well count on seasickness' breaking up any in- 
vading force. 

We landed at Newhaven, near the great watering 
place Brighton, and not very far from Hastings, Avhere 
William in 1066 put his conquering foot on English soil. 
We wished to go to Battle Abbey, erected where Harold 
lost his life and the crown of England to the Norman, 
but the Channel had incapacitated us and we went on to 
London. We finally got out in some big station there, 
and, after an interminable drive in a hansom cab at 
night, found a pleasant and reasonable boarding house 
in the West End at No. 8 Duchess Street, Portland Place. 





CHAPTER XIX. 

LONDON. 

T ONDON lies on its river not unlike Paris, but the 
■*-^ Thames flows eastwardly to the sea and not west- 
wardly like the Seine, and with its great docks, basins 
and commerce is a great factor in the life of the English 
metropolis. The Thames, like the Seine, makes a great 
bend to the north, and on the north side the Tower, as 
the Bastille, guards the east. The heart of the city is 
on that bank, and to the west as at Paris are parks. As 
with Paris one great street at a distance from the river 
but parallel to it runs east and west under different 
names, Oxford Street in the west, then Holborn, then 
Cheapside, and with yet other names until it be- 
comes a country road in the east, and in former times 
the likeness was completed by a thoroughfare along the 
Thames answering to the Seine quais, but this Strand 
street of London is now inland. Buildings have en- 
croached on the river, and indeed for part of the dis- 
tance there is now another highway immediately along 
the bank, called Victoria Embankment, on which stands 
Cleopatra's Needle. South of the river at Paris were 
few places attractive to the traveller, and in London 

253 



254 • RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

there are hardly any at alL A striking difference be- 
tween the two places, however, is that the original City 
of London is on the north bank of the river, and, al- 
though it has many suburbs larger than itself, is still, 
unlike the French island cite, the centre of metropolitan 
life and contains the principal business buildings. There 
is the same contrast, however, between the dirty solidity 
of London and the bright grandeur of Paris that there is 
between the stolid business force of the English and the 
industrious but fickle nature of the French. 

London may be conveniently divided into four parts, 
three north of the Thames and one south. The true 
London is the old city, from Temple Bar to the Tower, 
with St. Paul's and the Bank of England as the foci 
from Avhich radiate the main streets. East of that is the 
Port with its ships, piers and docks on both sides of the 
river, of great commercial importance but not especially 
interesting to travellers. West of the city is the West 
End, clustering about Parliament House, the Abbey and 
the Parks, connected with the city by the Strand and 
Holborn streets. South of the Thames on the Surrey 
side is Southwark, called the Borough. For postal and 
perhaps other purposes London is divided into East, 
West, East Center, South West, and other parts, always 
indicated by initials. The population is four millions. 
It was one million in 1800, but the change since is due 
as much to annexation as to increase. 

Sight seeing in this vast city begins wherever one 
happens to be. Rachel had a friend at Westminster 
Hotel, and so we first drove there, going south down 
Portland Place, which begins on the north at Regent's 
Park, with its magnificent zoological collection, and on 
the way we jDassed through quarters whose names are 



LONDON. 255 

household words. Soon we crossed busy Oxford Street, 
which under the name of Holborn leads to the city, and 
then went along curved Regent Street, admiring its 
fashionable shops. We then turned east on Piccadilly, 
which comes from Hyde Park, far to the west, with its 
pleasant walks and roads, among them the famous drive 
called Rotten Row. Haymarket Street then brought 
us to Trafalgar Square, and soon we were at our desti- 
nation. 

As often afterwards we used a hansom. This style of 
cab has two wheels and one horse, and the driver sits in 
a little box or perch above at the rear, handling the reins 
over the top of the vehicle. The newer ones have rubber 
tires and run easily. In bad weather we shut the two glass 
front doors, that close in like the arms of the Iron 
Virgin at Nuremburg, but happily with pleasanter results. 
The cabmen are not extra polite, but we had not much 
trouble. There are stands all over London, and prices, 
while higher than on the continent, are not unreason- 
able. 

After the continental churches Westminster is disap- 
pointing. It is a Gothic building in the shape of a Latin 
cross, the height 103 feet and the length 513, but from 
without it looks small and dingy. Within, it is dark and 
seems narrow and cramped, and the choir enclosure 
extending down into the nave contracts it yet more. 
The monuments generally are not to be highly regarded 
as works of art. Putting a bust, as lately Longfellow's, 
in Westminster Abbey is regarded as a great honor, but 
it would be more so if there was a better selection and 
if they were kept dusted. The great interest of the 
Abbey we found in its history, its graves and its chapels, 
but not in its monuments. 



256 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Founded in the time of Edward the Confessor, this 
was a Benedictine monastery, the minster being dedi- 
cated to St. Peter. Henry III. and Edward I. rebuilt 
the church in its present form, and Henry VHI. abol- 
ished the monastery and turned over its buildings to a 
dean and chapter, who still hold them. In our time 
Dean Stanley was long in charge and is buried there. 
The graves are generally below the floor and in walking 
around we trod over the names of great men lying 
beneath the stone slabs. In the nave lie Sir Isaac New- 
ton, Charles Darwin, Sir John Herschel, Sir William 
Temple, David Livingston, on whose grave was a wreath 
of flowers, Robert Stephenson the engineer, Lord Clyde 
and Lord Lawrence of Indian fame, G. E. Grant, the 
young architect who died before completion of his great 
creation, the Law Courts, and Ben Jonson, with the 
well known epitaph, — " O rare Ben Johnson." The 
nave has in late years been re-paved with uniform square 
stones, and this looks better, but unfortunately removes 
the old historic gravestones like Ben Jonson's. In the 
north transept are Lord Chatham, William Pitt and 
Charles J. Fox, his rival in politics. Canning, and Henry 
Grattan. In the south transept are the graves of Old 
Parr, the musician Handel, Sheridan the statesman and 
author, Garrick, Dr. Samuel Johnson, Charles Dickens, 
and the brilliant Macaulay. A part of this transept is 
called the Poets' Corner from the graves and many busts 
of poets. Chaucer's tomb is built into the wall, 
Spenser's is near, and next to Browning's since our visit 
Tennyson has been laid to rest. 

The chapels, hoAvever, are perhaps the most interest- 
ing part of the abbey and take up the whole of the short 
arm, the east end, of its Latin cross. They consist of 



LONDON. 257 

the central chapel of Edward the Confessor, really the 
continuation of the nave, and surrounding smaller ones, 
the most attractive of which is the later addition im- 
mediately behind the Confessor's, the beautiful chapel 
of Henry VII. The chapel of Edward contains the 
monuments of the Confessor the founder and Henry III. 
who rebuilt the abbey, Edward I. his son, the English 
Justinian, whose warlike epitaph calls him the Hammer 
of the Scots, Eleanor his wife, Henry V. and his wife, 
whose wooing in Shakspere's play is so familiar, the 
great conqueror Edward III., Richard II., and a number 
of worthies too not of royal blood. I believe most of 
these monuments mark the actual graves, for they had 
not then risen to the civilized custom of erecting 
cenotaphs and monuments to men who are buried miles 
away and thus leading the traveller to doubt even real 
tombs. In this chapel is the old oaken coronation chair 
of Edward I. containing the large stone of Scone brought 
by him from the west coast of Scotland. On this re- 
posed Jacob's head in his- vision, and on it too rested 
dying St. Columba at lona. 

In one of the main chapels to the right of the ambula- 
tory Lord Lytton is buried, and in another on the other 
side Sir Rowland Hill, to whom the world was indebted 
for penny postage. In all are monuments of people 
great in their mediaeval day, often with bronze or stone 
figures in mail lying at full length on their tombs, but 
now remembered only for the quaint carving and inscrip- 
tions of their last resting places. At the extreme east 
end I ascended some steps and entered the chapel of 
Henry VII., erected in the sixteenth century, itself really 
a church with side aisles and chapels. In the centre is 
the high metal tomb of Henry A^II. and his queen, and 



258 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

in the same vault lies James I. In this nave, too, are 
buried Edward VI., George II. and others, and among 
the monuments is one marking the grave of Dean Stanley 
and his wife. In the left aisle is the imposing monument 
of Queen Elizabeth, with whom is buried her sister Queen 
Mary, near rest the bones of the two murdered princes, 
brought here from the Tower, and not far away the author 
of the Spectator reposes in the vault of General Monk. 
Opposite in the right aisle is the monument of Mary 
Queen of Scots, who was executed by Elizabeth and whose 
remains were re-interred here in 16 12 by her son James, 
the successor of Elizabeth. These two queens, so con- 
trasted and hostile in their lives, now repose beneath 
similar and adjacent monuments, a recumbent figure 
under a canopy, with hands folded in prayer. Here lie 
also Charles II., William III. of Orange, his wife Queen 
Mary, and her successor Anne. 

Apart from the graves this chapel of Henry VII. is 
interesting on account of its noble ceiling of fan tracery 
with pendants. The airy stone fretwork is graceful and 
beautiful, not excelled by anything of which I know, 
even in England. The Gothic was worked out in more 
detail here than on the continent, although perhaps 
Great Britain does not present buildings of the same 
size and grandeur as Germany and France. English 
Gothic had three periods. The first was in the twelfth 
and thirteenth centuries, the time of Richard I., John 
and Henry III., and is called early English, or some- 
times Lancet from its narrow, pointed windows. The 
second is the Decorated, marked by a wider window, 
whose arch would contain an equilateral triangle. This 
flourished in the fourteenth century during the reigns of 
the first three Edwards, and produced possibly the rich- 



LONDON. 259 

est architecture of all. Its windows are mullioned and 
in panels, their tracery flowing and even flamboyant, the 
mouldings decorated with foliage, the columns clustered, 
and the doorways highly ornamented. The last period 
has a flatter arch and in general a squarer appearance, 
but the ornamentation is even more elaborate and the 
richly carved choir stalls and screens date also from 
this time. This is called the Perpendicular and extends 
from the end of the fourteenth to the sixteenth century, 
from the reign of Richard II.. through that of Henry 
VII. To the Perpendicular belongs this superb chapel, 
whose elaborate decoration may mark a decline from 
first principles, but whose elegance and finish cannot be 
surpassed. Afterwards came the mongrel architectural 
combinations of the Reformation time, and then a renais- 
sance under Jones, and more especially under Wren, 
which abandoned the Gothic for Italian styles. 

The old cloisters of the Abbey, adjoining this abbey 
church of Westminster, show yet older forms of archi- 
tecture, but one has to seek elsewhere for the best 
remains of the rude Saxon style and of the substantial 
round arched Norman buildings, so interesting and often 
so imposing. 

Seldom shown, but a part of the Abbey is the Jeru- 
salem Chamber. There died the great King Henry IV., 
who recognized in this the fulfilment of a prophecy that 
he should die " in Jerusalem." There sat that Assembly 
of Divines, 150 in number, from 1643 to 1648, which 
drew up the Westminster Confession of Faith and Cate- 
chisms, for a while the standards of England and even 
now of Presbyterians the world over. From the Jeru- 
salem Chamber too in our own day is dated the Revised 
Version of the English Bible. Part of the work on the 



26o RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

King James version, published 1611, was done at Oxford 
and Cambridge, but part also at Westminster. 

Between Westminster Abbey and the Parliament House 
is St. Margaret's church, where are buried Raleigh, who 
was executed not far away. Admiral Blake, and Caxton, 
whose printing press of 1476 stood near the Abbey. In 
St. Margaret's the Long Parliament took the Solemn 
League and Covenant which brought to their cause the 
aid of Scotland in the war against king and prelacy, and 
there in our day, under far different auspices, the Ameri- 
can Phillips Brooks often occupied the pulpit of his 
friend Canon Farrar. 

Parliament House is a vast and sumptuous structure of 
Perpendicular Gothic, on the west bank of the Thames, 
built in 1840 on the site of old Westminster Palace. 
The building is on low ground, and the three majestic 
towers at the north end, at the middle and at the south- 
west corner, upwards of three hundred feet high, dwarf 
the rest. In the south part are the royal apartments 
and the House of Lords, with lobby, courts and rooms, 
while at the north end are the Commons Hall, lobbies 
and the courts, including the Speaker's residence and 
numerous state ofi&ces. The ornamentation and finish 
of all is elaborate. Statues, frescoes, stained glass, tiles, 
coats of arms and everything else have been used to 
decorate the structure, and, best of all, the parliamentary 
life within the walls is worthy of this setting. The in- 
terior of the House of Commons is simpler than that of 
the House of Peers, although the lower house is really 
the political centre of the empire. The Speaker, whose 
office is non-partisan, presides from near the north end, 
and on the benches to his right sit the Government 
majority, to his left the Opposition, the leaders of each 



LONDON. 261 

in front. The seats have no desks and are reserved by 
the members coming early and putting their hats on the 
places they desire. To our notion it is strange to find 
places for only a little over two thirds of the six hundred 
and seventy members, and I have seen the seats not half 
full then. Division on questions is taken by counting 
the members as they file into lobbies, and all must vote 
one way or the other. 

To the lover of history more interesting even than this 
grand modern structure is " the great hall of William 
Rufus " adjoining, Old Westminster Hall, originally part 
of the Westminster Palace in which lived the kings of 
England from Saxon to Tudor times. This hall is 290 
feet long, 68 feet broad, and 92 feet high, its fine oaken 
ceiling needing no columns to uphold it. Here Edward 
II. and Richard II. were deposed, Charles I. tried, 
Cromwell declared Lord Protector, Wallace, Guy Fawkes 
and Strafford condemned, the Seven Bishops acquitted, 
and so too Warren Hastings after his long trial, made 
brilliant by the eloquence of Burke and Sheridan, who 
impeached him. Here were held many parliaments and 
here long sat the royal courts of justice after Magna 
Charta declared that they should no longer follow the 
king about the realm but be fixed at one place for the 
convenience of suitors. The vicissitudes of English 
history hardly equal the French, but worthy of ranking 
with the barbarity of the Revolution was the treatment 
of Cromwell's remains by the royalists. His body was 
taken from its grave in Westminster Abbey, the head 
exposed for many years on a pinnacle of this Hall, and 
the rest thrown in a pit at Tyburn, the place of common 
hanging. The skull at last fell down and was sold by a 
sentry. 



262 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

But there is much else of London to see besides 
Parliament Square. To the north-west of this vicin- 
ity are the parks and palaces. The nearest is 
Buckingham Palace, the town residence of the Queen 
and the scene of her drawing-rooms. Between these 
grounds and Green Park is Constitution Hill, where 
Peel was killed in 1850 by being thrown from his horse, 
and here several attempts have been made on the Queen's 
life. Beyond it at the corner of Hyde Park stands 
Apsley House, the residence presented to the great 
Wellington by the nation. From Buckingham Palace 
the Mall, a drive, extends to near Trafalgar Square, 
passing alongside St. James Park, which is behind the 
Downing Street government buildings. To the north and 
facing the drive and park is what since a fire is left of St. 
James Palace, the old red brick royal residence from 
which the English court receives its diplomatic title. 
Next to St. James is Marlborough House, the residence 
of the Prince of Wales. St. James was a royal palace 
from the time of Henry VIH. to George IV., and the 
regular residence of the sovereigns after the burning of 
Whitehall in 1691, and here are still held the Queen's 
levees. 

One of the best modes of seeing London streets is at 
the West End to take a 'bus marked " To the Bank " and 
ride the whole way. We climbed on top as at Paris, but 
the seats face the front and not to the sides as there. An 
unexpected but necessary article attached to the seat is a 
water proof apron to pull over one in case of rain, for 
London weather is the worst in the world. On one dull 
day with the sun making but a semi-luminous halo we 
were told that it was a most unusually fine day. The sky 
is generally leaden and the streets often foggy in their 



LONDON. 263 

best season, while in their bad weather you can hardly 
see the hand before your face, and the street and river 
traffic is practically at a standstill, perhaps for days. We 
missed the bad fogs but had cold wind and rain. 

From the Parliament House north to where the Thames 
turns east this extension of the Strand is known as White- 
hall. On the left we passed by Downing Street, on 
which and Whitehall are the stately government build- 
in-gs, whence is ruled the British Empire. Near is the 
Horseguards, a garrison, and on the sidewalk on each 
side of the approach to this sits a motionless horseman in 
red, the wonder of passers by. I asked a policeman what 
it meant. He said *' I don't know, but believe over a hun- 
dred years ago an officer directed them to sit there for 
some reason and the order has never been changed." 
The men are changed, though, every hour or two. Op- 
posite is a remnant of Whitehall palace, an Italian look- 
ing building, where Charles I. was executed, going out of 
his old banquet window to the scaffold. He slept the 
night before at St. James palace and walked over to 
Whitehall in the morning. Then we came again to Tra- 
falgar Square, where stands the granite Nelson pillar, one 
hundred and forty-five feet high, surmounted by his 
statue, commemoratiug the great naval victory in 1805, 
when Nelson was killed, but not until he had destroyed 
Napoleon's preparations for invading England from Bou- 
logne. Between the Square and Whitehall once stood 
Charing Cross, a Gothic monument erected by Edward 
I. to mark the last halting place of his wife's coffin on its 
way to Westminster, and the place still preserves the 
name. At the Square comes in from the west Pall Mall, 
a handsome street of clubs, terminating at the National 
Gallery on a terrace. 



264 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

The National Gallery has a fine selection of early 
Italian painters, important in the history of art, and also 
several noble Raphaels, but these masters are perhaps 
better studied on the continent. The great attraction to 
me was the Turner collection. This English artist is a 
master not perhaps of landscape but of cloudland. His 
buildings, sea, views, sunsets shade off into a marvellous 
red or yellow cloud that remind one of the simoon. 
Where he gets it I do not know, but it is so weirdly beau- 
tiful that it must have its original somewhere in nature. 
His earlier water colors are also much admired although 
different in style. But England has had other fine 
painters. The earliest was Hogarth in the first half of 
the last century, and in its second half came Reynolds 
and Gainsborough, who devoted themselves mainly to 
portraits, particularly of children. In our own century 
was the practical discovery by the English of water colors, 
and that they have held as their own domain. Turner and 
Constable being long the acknowledged leaders. Wilkie, 
Leslie, and Mulready painted genre pieces, but in our 
own generation a new school has dominated England, the 
Pre-Raphaelites, the advocates and practicers of accurate 
detail, even in backgrounds. Dante Rossettij Holman 
Hunt and J. E. Millais began the movement, Ruskin elo- 
quently preached it, and it now prevails at least in its 
effects. In the National Gallery all of these artists are 
represented as well as foreign masters, and although late 
in origin, the English school, particularly in landscape, 
may court comparison with any other, and this gallery, 
dating only from this century, bids fair to be one of the 
world's greatest collections. 

The view from the portico over Trafalgar Square and 
its monuments is imposing, although I hardly agree with 



LONDON. 265 

Peel, who patriotically declared this to be the finest site 
in Europe. There are a number of streets from it to the 
river and in every other direction, including the wider 
Strand, which leads to the City. Near it further on to 
the east are Covent Garden and a number of other the- 
atres, and Cecil, Surrey, Norfolk, and Essex streets 
branching off to the south show the sites of old palaces 
of the nobility, whose gardens faced the river. Then we 
came to the site of Temple Bar, a stone gate formerly 
leading into the City, through whose portals even the 
sovereign could not pass without the permit of the Lord 
Mayor. It was lately removed to give more room to the 
enormous traffic, — for here vehicles are in line for blocks 
together, often unable to move and seldom progressing 
faster than a walk. The police are autocrats in London. 
They rule vehicles and the streets in a very efficient 
manner. 

Here at Temple Bar we were before the New Courts 
of Justice. The old English division was into Common 
Law courts of King's Bench, Common Pleas, and Ex- 
chequer on the one side, and Chancery on the other, all 
sitting in Westminster Hall, except that Chancery was for 
a long time at Lincoln's Inn. In 1873 the Judicature 
Act consolidated all into one, but made Divisions of this 
High Court of Justice with names similar to the old 
courts. This magnificent Gothic building, facing the 
north side of the Strand, now contains pretty much all the 
upper courts. Near by is Lincoln's Inn, a law school of an 
incorporated society of lawyers, within whose park was 
executed in 1683 Lord William Russell, and partly within 
and partly without the old City is the Temple, Inner and 
Middle, a similar institution, where lawyers and others 
live in chambers, Blackstone and Dr. Johnson resided 



266 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

there, Charles Lamb and Selden and Goldsmith are buried 
in its precincts, and further east about Fleet Street, as the 
continuation of the Strand within the City is called, were 
the haunts of the erratic Dr. Johnson. Near in Chancery 
Lane is the Rolls Court and in Fetter Lane is the New 
Record Office, containing the Domesday Book of Wil- 
liam the Conqueror, which now-a-days we would call a 
Census Report, and many other valuable State papers. 
Within the City was Fleet Prison for debtors, removed, 
however, in 1844, and we have hardly got used to the 
name Fleet before that gives way to Ludgate Hill, a street 
which leads only to St. Paul's. It has been in effect con- 
tinued, however, by Cannon Street, which runs from St. 
Paul's to the tall marble Monument near London Bridge, 
marking where the Great Fire of 1666 began, and may be 
regarded as further continued by Eastcheap and Great 
Tower Street to the Tower of London. Cannon is inter- 
sected midway by Victoria Street, a wide thoroughfare 
which the demands of traffic have compelled the authori- 
ties to cut from Blackfriars Bridge north-east to the Bank. 
On it is the new building of The Times, the British 
Thunderer, whose circulation, however, is surpassed by 
several American newspapers, as they in turn are by the 
Petit Journal of Paris, which has a million readers. 

I believe St. Paul's is of white marble, but it is now 
blackened all over by the smoky fogs. Like all older 
churches it faces west. The present building was 
erected by Sir Christopher Wren during the thirty-five 
years succeeding 1675. It is in the Renaissance style, 
much resembling St. Peter's, although the portico is per- 
haps more imposing and the dome more visible, and 
ranks third among the world's great churches, coming 
next to the Milan cathedral in size. Its majestic dome, 



LONDON. 267 

364 feet high, can be seen to advantage only from a dis- 
tance, as the yard is too small to admit of a view. With- 
in, the church looks cold and bare compared with the 
rich coloring, frescoes and paintings of continental 
churches, but a beginning has been made in the way of 
mosaics in the dome. 

The greatest attraction of St. Paul's is its monu- 
ments around the walls, but the resting places of the 
men they celebrate are in the vaults below, if in the 
church at all. The most recent monument I noticed 
was that of Chinese Gordon, a recumbent bronze statue, 
and probably the handsomest are those to Nelson 
and Wellington, who are interred in the crypt. There 
immediately under the dome is the great black sarco- 
phagus of Nelson, who died in 1805 at his great victory 
of Trafalgar, where his last order was the well known, 
" England expects every man to do his duty." His cof- 
fin is made from the mainmast of the French flag ship 
L'Orient which blew up at his victory of Aboukir Bay 
and "with fragments strewed the sea." Also in the 
crypt is the high porphyry sarcophagus of Wellington. 
He died in 1852, having long outlived Napoleon, whom 
circumstances enabled him to conquer at Waterloo, and 
was alive when that emperor's will, written at St. Helena, 
was surrendered, and his remains permitted to be taken 
to France to repose in their magnificent tomb. Welling- 
ton was in peace and war the Iron Duke. He never 
knew fatigue or admitted failure in politics any more 
than in battle. The architect Christopher Wren, the 
painters Benjamin West, Joshua Reynolds, Thomas 
Lawrence, Edwin Landseer, John Opie, J. M. W. Turner 
and Geo. Cruikshank among artists, and Dean Milman, 
Bartle Frere and Sir William Jones among authors are 



268 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

also buried in St. Paul's. Over the north door inside 
the church is a tablet to the memory of Wren, with the 
striking conclusion, " Si monumentum requiris, circum- 
spice." 

In St. Paul's are notices not to pay the guides, who 
are apparently clergymen of subordinate rank. Ours 
after showing us all the crypt took us into a dark room 
and said, " That is all." We thanked him, and he, after 
waiting a minute, heaved a sigh as no money clinked 
and took us upstairs again. A more ingenious guide in 
the capitol at Albany, New York, once finished up the 
tour in the dark basement under the tower, and sug- 
gested that similar rules did not forbid my .slipping half 
a dollar in his outside coat pocket, unknown to him. 
Considering my helplessness, I cheerfully complied. 

Adjoining St. Paul's churchyard on the north is Pater- 
noster Row, a short, narrow street of book stores with 
tempting exhibits, overlooked by a room in which in 
1844 young George Williams held a prayer meeting 
among his fellow clerks and founded the Young Men's 
Christian Association which he has lived to see girdle 
the world with good works and noble buildings. At the 
west end of Paternoster Row is Stationers' Hall, in effect 
the British copyright office, although it belongs to a 
private corporation. Grub Street, famous in Dr. John- 
son's time as the working place of literary hacks, is some 
distance north-east, beyond the street named London 
Wall from its site. Grub Street is now called Milton 
Street, from John Milton, who is buried in St. Giles 
church near Smithfield. This is now a meat market, 
but was formerly outside the walls and the place of pub- 
lic executions. Here died Wat Tyler, Sir William Wal- 
lace and others, and here too were burned at the stake 



LONDON. 269 

the Protestant martyrs under Bloody Mary, the site now 
marked by a drinking fountain. 

For the present returning to our Strand-Fleet-Cannon 
Street route, looking from near the Monument down the 
noisy street to London Bridge, I saw the greatest pack 
of vehicles possible, a long string in each direction, and 
it was with the utmost difficulty that one could cross. It 
is .almost like waiting for the river to flow by. Fifteen 
thousand vehicles a day and seven times as many people 
on foot cross the bridge. This granite structure does 
not ante-date our century, but takes the place of another 
which went back to the twelfth century, and wooden 
ones before that dated back to Saxon if not to Roman 
times. On the gates which closed the ends of the old 
stone bridge, as over Temple Bar, were formerly exposed 
the heads of decapitated traitors, and perhaps a survival 
of the sentiment is still shown in making the lamp posts 
of Qaptured French cannon. Until within the past 
hundred years London Bridge was the only one across 
the Thames, but there are nearly a dozen now, besides 
two or more tunnels. 

Some of the great highways perpendicular to the 
river, as Victoria Street at Westminster, Gower Street 
and its continuations, Farringdon Road, and Bishop- 
gate Street cross their Westminster, Waterloo, Black- 
friars and London Bridges, and, continuing south on 
the Surrey side, gradually converge in Southwark 
at the Elephant and Castle Inn. Near this is the 
immense Tabernacle of the late Chas. H. Spurgeon, a 
sleepy-looking man whom I once heard there in a good, 
plain, earnest sermon. I remember that he accented 
Deutero;/^;;/j' on the fourth syllable and prayed earnestly 
for rain. His convenient and well ushered church ac- 



270 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

commodates six thousand people. From London Bridge 
St. Paul's, Billingsgate Fish Market and other prominent 
buildings are in sight, and although I do not sketch I 
examined them with as much interest as Macaulay's 
New Zealand traveller will do some centuries hence. 
Below the Bridge are the steamships of this great port, 
while above it the traffic is necessarily confined to 
smaller steamers and light craft, and I found a trip up to 
Westminster Bridge on one of the penny boats full of 
interest. In High Street, Southwark, not far from the 
Bridge stood until lately Tabard Inn, whence the pil- 
grims in Canterbury Tales started on their journey, and 
not far west of the Bridge on the Bankside was once the 
theatre where Shakspere played, but the exact site is 
uncertain. 

Further down the river, and just outside the old walls, 
stands the Tower, now an arsenal but for many centuries 
a prison and the scene of execution of state prisoners. 
Its guardians are soldiers in red with jaunty caps, who 
are called colloquially " beef eaters," but why is not 
quite certain. At the north-west corner on Tower Hill 
was the site of the scaffold, and opposite just within the 
fortress are buried many of its famous victims. There 
are Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, two of Henry 
VIII's queens. Lady Jane Grey and Lord Dudley her 
husband. Queen Elizabeth's favorite Essex, and Mon- 
mouth, the illegitimate son of James II. The two 
queens were executed within the Tower enclosure at a 
spot covered by brick. In the Tower were confined at 
sundry times many others of royal and noble blood, in- 
cluding Baliol, Bruce and Wallace of Scotland, John of 
France, Elizabeth while princess, Cranmer, Strafford, 
Laud, Jeffreys and even Marlborough. The Tower 



• LONDON. 271 

fronts the Thames on its longest side and on that and 
the other four sides is surrounded by castellated walls 
and towers, outside being a dry moat, which can be 
flooded. The entrance is from the south-west corner, 
but there is also an entrance from the river through the 
commonplace looking Traitor's Gate, the old route for 
state prisoners. 

In the centre of the enclosure rises the isolated White 
Tower, the oldest part of all, erected by William the 
Conqueror on the site of a Saxon and perhaps a 
Roman fortress. It is very nearly a cube of one hun- 
dred feet in all dimensions. Under the stone staircase 
were discovered the bones of the two princes murdered 
by Richard III., above are the rooms occupied by 
Raleigh while he wrote his history in prison, higher a 
fine Norman chapel, and the upper floor was the scene 
of the abdication of the ill-fated Richard II. The 
White Tower now contains a collection of armor, from 
the leather scales or steel rings on leather of the Nor- 
man period, through the chain mail of the time of Henry 
III. and perfect plate armor of Henry V., down to the 
lighter suits of the Stuarts, after whom it was abandoned. 
With these are exhibited also the block, axe and execu- 
tioner's mask, disused since the execution in 1747 of 
Lovat, a Stuart adherent. In the Tower is a collection 
of fire arms of all kinds, and the wall decoration is often 
of wreaths and ornaments of swords and bayonets. In 
one or other of the dozen keeps were murdered the two 
princes, the Duke of Clarence drowned in a butt of 
malmsey, and the weak-minded Henry VI. killed after 
the long life which saw several pseudo-kings and the 
struggle of his brave wife with Warwick the King-maker. 
The crown jewels, except the Kohinor, which is at 



272 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

Windsor, are also kept in the Tower. Queen Victoria's 
beautiful crown of 1838 has nearly three thousand dia- 
monds, valued at one million pounds, and its chief dec- 
orations are Maltese crosses and the great ruby once 
owned by the Black Prince and worn by Henry V. at 
Agincourt, 

The other east and Avest route of London I named is 
almost as interesting. To take it from the region of docks 
to the west again we may say it begins at Whitechapel, 
so famous lately for strange murders of women. Thence 
by Leadenhall and Cornhill we arrive where are proba- 
bly the densest crowds even in London, — the place on 
which fronts the Bank of England, the Royal Exchange, 
and the Mansion House of the Lord Mayor. Here 
come in King William Street from London Bridge, Lom- 
bard Street, Threadneedle, Princes Street, (to Brown, 
Shipley & Co.'s behind the Bank,) Poultry leading 
towards the West End, and several others, marking the 
sites of trades once carried on by the respective guilds. 
Here I suppose is the most valuable real estate in the 
world. 

The Bank is a private corporation, dating back to 
1691. It is the only one having the power to issue paper 
money, and a note when paid is immediately cancelled. 
The notes are small and oblong and are printed in sim- 
ple devices, black on white. They are said to be diffi- 
cult to counterfeit, probably on account of water marks, 
as the designs are neither ornate nor difficult, and as 
works of art do not compare with our bank notes. The 
Bank does its own printing and binding. Its vaults con- 
tain about twenty million pounds, and its outstanding 
notes aggregate somewhat more. It manages the British 
national debt, and is the financial centre of the world. 



LONDON. 273 

The plain low building takes up a whole block, and has 
for greater safety no external windows, being lighted from 
the interior courts, and is guarded by a garrison of sol- 
diers at night. In the Exchange across the street is 
Lloyd's, the rooms where ship agents and underwriters 
do business. It is not a firm or corporation, but offices 
where all firms and corporations congregate. 

We went westward on top of a 'bus along Poultry, 
which almost immediately became Cheapside, the chief 
trading street of old London. Off to the north up King 
Street is Guildhall, the seat of the municipal govern- 
ment, where the new Lord Mayor gives annually a great 
public banquet on November 9th, important because at- 
tended by the Queen's ministers, who take this occasion 
to outline their own policy. Beyond Cheapside is Bow 
Church, re-erected by Sir Christopher Wren after the 
Great Fire, its steeple still much admired. The true 
Londoner, the original Cockney, is he who is born with- 
in the sound of Bow Bells. Near are other historic 
spots. On Bread Street in 1608 was born John Milton, 
and on Cheapside between that and Friday Street was 
the Mermaid Tavern, where met the famous social club 
founded by Ben Jonson five years earlier and claiming 
Shakspere, Beaumont and Fletcher and others as its 
members. Further on we soon caught a glimpse of St. 
Paul's and Paternoster Row from the north, in the other 
direction the great building of the General Post Office, 
and there our street changed its name to Newgate. This 
it retained until we got out of the city at gloomy New- 
gate Prison, at the south-east corner of the street known 
as Old Bailey, but this is not now the principal prison of 
London, nor is it the scene of executions as of yore. 

Oates, Defoe and Penn have been confined within these 
18 



2/4 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

walls, and in a church near by is buried John Smith, of 
Pocahontas fame. 

Here begins the iron Holborn Viaduct, built in 1869 
to connect Holborn Street with the City, from which it 
was separated by a ravine through which ran a stream 
called the Fleet, which gives its name to the parallel 
street nearer the river. Buildings are continuous along 
the sides of the Viaduct and one hardly realizes that it 
is a bridge. Gray's Inn Road comes in on one side of 
Holborn and Chancery Lane on the other, and as we 
went along this avenue, now become New Oxford Street, 
off to the right we caught glimpses through side streets 
of the British Museum. Further west the avenue is 
Oxford Street until it reaches Tyburn and Hyde Park, 
when as Uxbridge Road it passes the Park and Kensing- 
ton Gardens and so on west out into the country towards 
Windsor and Oxford. 

South of Kensington Gardens is the Albert Memorial, 
a lofty monument to the Queen's husband, who died in 
1 86 1, universally mourned. The Prince Consort is 
seated under a canopy, and a frieze around the monu- 
ment shows the distinguished men of his time. Even a 
better monument is the South Kensington Museum not 
far away, which he founded for the education of the 
masses, and which has had the best results. Here are 
gathered together casts of almost everything of value 
in art, a fine picture gallery of British paintings, the origi- 
nal cartoons of Raphael for the Scriptural tapestries, and 
also valuable zoological and scientific collections. There 
is the great engine of Watts, also " Puffing Billy " the first 
locomotive, dating from 1813, Stephenson's "Rocket" 
locomotive of 1829, all clumsy enough, but meaning more 
than the finest Baldwin or Rogers of the present day. 



LONDON. 275 

The greatest collection of London, if not of the world, 
however, is the British Museum, and it is not yet one 
hundred and fifty years old. The building, which is near 
Oxford St., has been gradually extended and is now 
worthy of what it holds. In the centre is a round read- 
ing room, under a great glass dome one foot wider than 
St. Peter's, and to the east are the libraries of one and 
one half million modern books, as well as Gutenberg, 
Gaxton and Aldine first prints, including the Mazarin 
Bible, the first printed. There, too, are modern auto- 
graphs and famous literary originals, as well as the Codex 
Alexandrinus, which ranks with the Sinaiticus of St. 
Petersburg and the Vaticanus, they being the three 
oldest Biblical manuscripts. There, also, is the Syriac 
Genesis and Exodus of a.d. 464. In the west wings 
are the remains of ancient art. The Egyptian embraces 
the basalt Rosetta stone, discovered by the French, and 
whose trilingual inscription gave the key to hieroglyphics. 
The Assyrian collection embraces Layard's discoveries 
south of Nineveh and those of other explorers from the 
palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh itself. There are also 
Persian, Etruscan and other collections, the Portland 
vase and good Roman sculptures, including the beautiful 
Clytie, Boy Extracting Thorn, and the Townley Venus. 

The Greek remains are priceless, among them being 
reliefs from the Xanthus Harpy Tomb, part of the Mauso- 
leum at Halicarnassus, and the Elgin marbles. Lord 
Elgin was British ambassador at Constantinople and in 
the first three years of this century he brought these 
sculptures from the Parthenon. I am not sure about 
his right to them, but it would have been a good thing if 
some Elgin had appropriated them before the Venetians 
bombarded the temple in 1687 and blew up the Turkish 



2/6 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

magazine within. The marbles contain the procession 
of women and cavalry from the cella, the centaur metopes 
from the architrave, and the remains of the famous sculp- 
tures from the pediments, these last from the workshop of 
Phidias in the time of Pericles. The figures were suited 
to the spaces which they occupied, — in the centre they 
were standing, in the angles they were recumbent. The 
group in the eastern pediment represented the birth of 
Minerva. The centre is missing, and of the others only 
Theseus retains a head. The western group is still more 
shattered, but enough still exists of each to sustain the 
ancient verdict that the work was a fitting crown to this 
proud temple of Ictinus built on the site of the one de- 
stroyed by the Persians, and these easy and perfect 
figures proclaim Phidias the greatest sculptor of the 
world. 

London is full of sites connected with authors or great 
men of English history. It was a Roman, then a Saxon, 
and then an English town, always growing, until it is 
now the greatest city of the world. Its streets are nar- 
row still, except the new ones cut from time to time at 
enormous expense. The shops at the West End are the 
more fashionable, but in the City the prices are a little 
lower. At the co-operative Stores is everything imagina- 
ble and by borrowing the ticket of a friend we got all 
the articles that we wanted of the best quality and at 
the minimum cost. 

The underground railway is a convenient method of 
going great distances in a few minutes and at very little 
expense. The cars and engines are much like those on 
other English roads, and the only difference in the 
travel is that we are in a tunnel all the time. I had two 
suits of clothes made at a tailor's by the Monument and 



LONDON. 277 

went there quite often. I always took the underground 
if at all pressed for time, as the 'bus consumed about two 
hours, and the underground twenty minutes. There is 
a station near the Monument, and I went into a hall 
from the street, paid three pence at a window, and then 
went down the steps, where an agent punched the ticket. 
There are two flights of steps, as one needs the east or 
west bound train, which have different tracks and plat- 
forms. I never had to wait long, as the trains are fre- 
quent. When the cars came a man ran along opening 
the doors and all people hurriedly got to the class they 
wanted, the third class generally. Sometimes it was 
crowded and I had to stand. Then some one ran along 
and closed the doors, and we were off. At my destina- 
tion I .went up other stairs to daylight, giving up my 
ticket at the top. There are two routes, the Inner Circle 
from the Tower to Kensington, and an Outer Circle, 
with separate and less frequent trains, having a larger 
circuit, and one or the other goes near almost all points 
of interest, including the great terminal stations. These, 
by the way, have large railroad hotels connected with 
the stations, fitted with every comfort. 

Rachel recovered enough to ride around and also visit 
St. Paul's and the Abbey, but had to choose between the 
British Museum and Tussaud's. She naively chose the 
wax works, and that was our last sight-seeing before 
taking the train for Liverpool. Mme. Tussaud is dead 
and her own wax figure shows her as a shrivelled up 
little woman. Her grandson now controls the exhibi- 
tion. Many of the figures are very lifelike, but many 
are not, especially in the hands. Some stand in groups 
chatting, some are seated, looking at the others, and 
many funny experiences are told of people asking the 



2/8 



RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 



wax policemen questions. We were determined not to 
be taken in, so we went around suspiciously eying live 
ones too lest we be deceived. Little Napoleon II. in 
his cradle is very sweet, and a French lady asleep before 
her execution a perfect dream of loveliness. The figure 
is said even to breathe. We saw there also Napoleon's 
carriage, and the bed on which he died. Below is the 
Chamber of Horrors, with representations of prisons and 
executions, and there too is the original guillotine which 
played such havoc in the Place de la Concorde. 




CHAPTER XX. 



HOMEWARD BOUND, 



DACHEL'S fall on the Channel steamer not only pre- 
^ ^ vented her seeing much of London but made it 
necessary to give up our proposed flying trip to visit 
friends in Edinburgh. As soon as she was able to travel 
we made direct for Liverpool and took the Inman liner, 
City of Paris, for New York. 

On the way from London we passed in sight of the 
great round tower of Windsor castle and the beautiful 
spires of Oxford, recalling my pleasant visits to these 
places in years gone by. 

Windsor is about an hour's ride from London, and is 
the Queen's usual residence. The castle is on a hill and 
the terraces at one side command a wide prospect over a 
park and the river valley, while on the others are walls 
with guarded gates. Within the enclosure are two 
wards, in the outer of which is St. George's chapel and 
in the inner the royal residence. In this inner palace 
proper are shown the state apartments, all ornamented 
richly but not gaudily ; they are not very large and 
everything there made me think this palace more home- 
like than any other I saw in Europe. St. George's chapel, 

279 



28o RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

the place of worship and interment too for the present 
royal family, is a beautiful church of Perpendicular 
Gothic, with finely carved choir stalls and fan tracery 
above on the ceiling. Here, where lately was buried the 
eldest son of the Prince of Wales, lie in plain tombs in 
the choir the remains of Henry VHI. and Charles I., 
while in the royal vaults are those of Edward IV., Henry 
VIII., George III., William IV. and others, and near is 
the elaborate mausoleum of the Prince Consort, erected 
by the Queen. The castle dates from Edward IV., 
although the Conqueror had a fortress here. It has been 
the royal residence only since George III. Across the 
river is Eton school with its handsome hall, while a short 
distance down towards London is the island of Runny- 
mede, where Magna Charta was signed. 

The visit to classic Oxford, too, will be long remem- 
bered. I found the university made up of some nineteen 
or more semi-independent colleges, situated in different 
parts of the town, each with its own buildings and gov- 
ernment. As I wandered around I discovered the place 
to be a mine of architecture. In the town St. Mary's 
presents several phases of Gothic in one church, and 
the adjacent Gothic Martyrs' Monument marks where 
Cranmer and Ridley were burned as heretics in 15.56. 
The colleges, too, are Gothic and although varying in 
some arrangements are all built on the same general 
plan. Each has one or more quadrangles, surrounded by 
students' quarters, chapel and lecture rooms, and either 
the chapel or entrance is crowned by the graceful tower 
so prominent from a distance. They were' founded by 
different men from time to time, Christ Church, the 
largest of them all, owing much, for example, to Cardi- 
nal Wolsey. Magdalen College is one of the most inter- 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 28 1 

esting. In it is a fine old cloister, the tower overgrown 
with ivy, and in the grounds are a deer park and the 
leafy promenade known from one celebrated frequenter 
as Addison's Walk. Among other attractions of the 
University are the books and manuscripts of the Bodleian 
Library and the ivied court containing the Clarendon 
Press. • 

Cambridge is perhaps more beautiful, the college 
grounds there stretching down to the river on which the 
students love to row, but Cambridge was not on our 
present route. Beyond Oxford towards Liverpool is 
Stratford-on-Avon, the scene of the birth and death of 
Shakspere, whose busiest years, however, were spent in 
London. 

The famous house of his father, now reclaimed from 
common uses and become a Shakspere museum, is a 
plain two-story building, the frame showing and filled 
in with brick and plaster, as is so common here in 
England. I entered through a door at the left-hand 
corner, and found myself in an entry, to the right of 
which were two rooms containing the Shakspere me- 
morials that have survived, unfortunately few in number. 
In his chair, as is the custom with all pilgrims here, I 
took my seat, in the vain hope of absorbing some inspira- 
tion. In this room William assisted his father carry on 
a wool-combing establishment. Back of the entry was 
the best kitchen, and back of that two small closets, 
used respectively for washing and for prayer. Bacon 
originates the sentiment that cleanliness is next to godli- 
ness. Who knows but that the juxtaposition of washing 
and praying closets suggested this idea, and by way of 
carrying war into Africa here may be an argument that 
Shakspere wrote Bacon. Upstairs over the entry is the 



282 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

room where the world's greatest genius first saw the light. 
The room is clean, the fireplace large, with seats in the 
chimney corner, the ceiling so low that it can be reached 
by hand and covered by the signatures of visitors, many 
of them distinguished, but the custodian thought mine 
too humble to be permitted there. The broken plaster 
is held in place by metal strips and does not admit of 
much handling now. From the windows one sees the 
garden, planted with the flowers Perdita and Ophelia 
loved, and their sweet odors mingle with the reveries in- 
duced by this hallowed spot. 

On his return to Stratford to live as a retired man of 
means Shakspere built himself a New Place but strangely 
enough only its foundations remain. Not far from 
where he was born stands the church under whose 
square tower he was buried. He lies there in the chancel, 
protected by the curse carved on the slab against any 
one that moves his bones. Above on the side wall is 
the well known bust or rather half figure resting on a 
cushion, but it is fat and coarse and staring, retaining 
even yet traces of the paint formerly upon it. About on 
noble tombs lie effigies in armo"r, and in front in the 
body of the church are the high-backed pews of the con- 
gregation. The churchyard extends down to the narrow 
Avon and is bounded on the town side by ivied walls. 

Near Stratford are romantic Warwick and Kenilworth 
Castle, further beyond is dirty, modern Birmingham and 
the black country of the Stafford potteries, and then not 
far south of Liverpool came Chester. Chester was once 
a great port, but decayed as its river Dee gradually filled 
up. This gave Liverpool its opportunity. Chester is 
laid off regularly in squares on the lines of the Roman 
camp (castrum) which gave the city its name, site and 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 283 

shape. Its mediaeval walls and characteristics still sur- 
vive, the same narrow streets and Dutchy houses, the 
same elevated and covered sidewalks, called Rows, 
on which shopkeepers still show their wares. 

We reached the Mersey at night and preferred the 
cold ferry to the tunnel route in order to see the many 
lights of the shipping and of Liverpool. The next day, 
Wednesday, September 30th, we learned that the steamer 
did not leave until sunset, so that we had all day to 
roam around the fine streets and admire the handsome 
buildings of Liverpool, the second city and the second 
port of the kingdom. Rachel bought some embroidered 
handkerchiefs and fancy articles as presents for friends, 
and I could not, despite purchases at London, resist 
buying a few more books. 

But at last we had dinner, got our packages ready, 
drove down to the quay and with many others waited on 
the floating landing stage for the tender, investing mean- 
time in the steamer chair which was to prove so use- 
ful. The graceful, long, black City of Paris lay there before 
our eyes, anchored in the river. The sidewheel tender 
finally came and took us off, bag and baggage, to the 
steamer that was to be our home on the roaring deep 
for almost three thousand miles of travel. It was a 
relief to be homeward bound, and yet it was with a sigh 
of regret that we left these historic shores behind us, 
perhaps never to be re-visited. 

Plans had made us familiar with the ship's general 
arrangement and except that it took us some time to 
learn the way to our room we soon felt at home. She 
started off while we were at dinner in the noble dining 
room, a beautiful glass dome vaulting above us, and we did 
not at first notice that we were moving. After dark we 



284 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

watched the many lights ashore and on the shipping, a 
beautiful sight, but they finally faded away and we were 
out on the Irish sea. 

Our big steamer we found to be in every way superior 
of course to the little Rotterdam. The City of Paris and 
its companion steamship of the same line, the City of 
New York, have been recently naturalized as American 
by special act of Congress, their names being now the 
Paris and the New York. Each is a three-masted, twin- 
screw steamer of 10,500 tons, elaborately fitted up in 
every respect. The three great funnels, and the engines 
and boiler spaces are amidships and the cabins fore and 
aft of these. There are four decks. The uppermost is 
the promenade deck, being open to walkers all along the 
sides, the swell $600 state rooms and the public library 
being in the centre. The parts of this deck adjoining 
the state rooms are covered with awning and here sit the 
readers and the invalids. Deck chairs were supplied at 
a rental of two shillings for the trip, but it was necessary 
to fee the chair steward besides, in order to receive at- 
tention. Next below is the saloon deck, and on it 120 
feet from the bow is the dining saloon, its dome project- 
ing up above the promenade deck, and near the stern are 
the smoking and card room, the bar and the barber shop, 
while on the two long passages connecting these public 
places are lavatories, jDantries and the like. Lower is the 
upper deck, — showing by its name that the other two are 
additions to the regular structure of ships, added for 
convenience of the passenger traffic. On this and the 
last or main deck are most of the state rooms, prices 
varying according to floor and nearness to the side of the 
vessel. Ours was No. 453 on the main deck and the 
price was $90 for each of us. 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 285 

Our cabin was thus near the water line and always 
needed the electric light, but through an automatic ap- 
paratus was admirably ventilated. Like most of the ship 
it was painted white, and with its two berths on one side 
and lounge opposite reminded us of our room on the 
Rotterdam. The satchels and steamer trunk permitted 
in the state rooms are labelled in red " Inman Line, 
Wanted." Our room was all right when we got to it, but 
the stairways and passages en route were complicated, 
due, I am satisfied, to the fact that originally the main 
and upper decks at this point had been a part of the 
second-class quarters, which still were above us on the 
saloon deck. But the second-class stairway from the 
promenade deck was closed for the present and to get 
from our steamer chairs to our berths we had to go aft 
and down the large stairway to the saloon deck, then 
descend a small flight from an entry immediately behind, 
next find our way back through passages on this the 
upper deck to an entry, where we went down one flight 
more on steps whose closed upper part once communi- 
cated direct with the promenade deck, and lastly go for- 
ward to our cabin on this main deck. 

It took a long time for the trans-Atlantic marine to 
evolve such a ship as the Paris. During the first half 
of this century the passenger business between this 
country and Europe was by means of fast sailing vessels. 
The first two steamships arrived in New York in 1837, 
but they consumed so much coal on their two weeks' 
trip that steam did not immediately drive out the clip- 
pers. In 1840 began the Cunard steamship line, en- 
couraged by an English subsidy, and this company had 
almost a monopoly, until in 1849 the American Collins 
line obtained similar assistance from the United States. 



286 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

The Collins people added the barber shop and smoking 
room and made perhaps better time than the Cunarders, 
but lasted only six years. About that time the Inman 
line began and to it is due not only steerage facilities but 
the substitution of screw propeller for the side wheels 
previously in use. The White Star launched its famous 
Oceanic in 1870 and minimized the noise of the screw by 
placing the cabins amidships. Within a few years past 
the Inmans built the City of New York with twin screws, 
which do not seem materially to increase the speed but 
no doubt lessen the danger from accident, and also make 
the ship easier to handle. As each improvement is added 
all other lines of prominence have to follow suit. The 
Cunarders did not favor the twin screws, as their single 
screw Etruria and Umbria were all but equal to the twin 
screw steamers of the other lines, but even the Cunard 
people have built their last ship, the gigantic Campania, 
with two screws. Up to our return the City of Paris held 
the fastest undisputed westward record, five days, nine- 
teen hours and eighteen minutes, reckoned from Roche's 
Point at the entrance of Queenstown harbor to Sandy 
Hook lightship. This time has, however, been lowered 
since. The Inman lines now run to Southampton. 

Of late years iron and even steel have been substituted 
for wood and the system of water-tight compartments 
extending across the ship from bottom to main deck has 
lessened the danger from collision. The New York and 
Paris and perhaps others have the further improvement 
of dividing the engine and I think boiler spaces longi- 
tudinally, so that water might in case of accident fill one 
side without disabling the machinery on the other 
side. 

I attempted to keep a journal or log on our voyage 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 2.%'J 

from Liverpool to New York, but it stops abruptly. It 
reads as follows : — 

" Wednesday, September 30. — Came on board this 
steamship at Liverpool by 5 p.m. tender. Could not get 
the hang of the stairways to our room on the fourth deck 
below. - Dining room has glass dome. Menu good. 
Sailed about 6:30 p.m. 

" Thursday, October i. — Clear. Off Queenstown 9: 30 
A.M. after an easy night. We went ashore and had a half 
crown ride in the country on a jaunting car and returned 
late for lunch. Rachel seasick and had to leave the table." 

I might add, parenthetically, that the Queenstown 
jaunt was rough, but, as the drivers were witty, the views 
of river and moist green country good, and our numer- 
ous company in high glee, the trip was very pleasant. 
On this car we sat two on a side, back to back instead of 
couples facing, the driver being higher in front. The 
cushioned seats are a little insecure despite the footboard, 
inasmuch as there are but two wheels. Everywhere were 
beggars, even the children, and poverty appeared su- 
preme. On the dock the persistent peddlers of lace, caps 
and shillelahs were annoying, and one irate old woman, 
who seemed to control the landing, informed us after we 
had several times said we wanted nothing, — " Yis, ye 
want the grace of God." We did not think that we could 
obtain much of this from her, and did not worry. 

"Friday, October 2. — Rainy and windy. 414 miles. 
Ireland out of sight by nightfall yesterday. Rachel in 
bed all day but easier now at night. Am reading Char- 
lotte Bronte to her. Above 414 miles made in 23 hours 
against head wind. Ship pitches some but does not 
roll much. Many people seasick. I am not, but have 
not a voracious appetite. 



288 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

" Saturday, October 3. — A^ery rough. 436 miles. With 
Rachel in state room most of the day, reading. Ship 
pitches and rolls a good deal. 

" Sunday, October 4. — Stormy. 446 miles. Rachel on 
deck this morning until storm drove all hands inside. 
Since she has been seasick. Sea now somewhat more 
moderate but still bad. Began Kingsley's Roman and 
Teuton. 

"Monday, October 5. — Moderate. 439 miles. Rainy 
and towards evening foggy. Motion of ship is not bad. 
Rachel on deck the whole day but not at meals. AVe 
hope to land Wednesday evening." 

Here the log stops. The ship the whole way had to 
fight head winds and the weather was generally rainy and 
rough. Rachel did not go to a single meal after we left 
Ireland. I brought her toasted and salted crackers when 
she was worst off and things more substantial as she im- 
proved. The deck steward was unreliable and those 
who trusted to him were sometimes pretty well famished. 
Indeed we found the attendance in all departments poor. 
The call bell from our room was seldom answered, and 
at the table the waiters were not efficient. The bills of 
fare were elaborate enough, calling for everything found 
at a first class hotel, but what one actually got was rather 
indifferent in quantity and quality. The ship was over 
crowded, there being all told, including crew and steer- 
age too, something like sixteen or eighteen hundred 
people on board, as well as we could judge. 

When near home we came near trying the merits of 
some of the safety appliances of the Paris. By Tuesday 
October 6th the bad weather had developed into a severe 
storm and after a rough day of it we retired at night with 
the feeling that at all events the pulsing screw was driv- 



HOMEWARD BOUND, 289 

ing us onward towards port. Something suddenly 
wakened us and to our alarm the beat of the propeller 
had ceased. We hurriedly dressed, and the ship seemed 
to be wearing around, gradually rocking more and more 
until the jerking showed we were in the trough of the 
sea. Articles were thrown from the berths, our two 
heavy satchels before I could secure them commenced 
charging so savagely from side to side, like the loose 
cannon in Victor Hugo's Ninety-three, that we could 
not stand on the floor. Worse yet the electric light 
faded out. We remembered that on a former trip this 
ship had in some way admitted water until the after 
part where we then were sank from the engine back. 
The dark ship was as silent as the grave except for the 
crash of crockery. We wanted company, and after get- 
ting ready as well as we could we slowly and painfully 
felt our way along the black passages and up the swaying 
steps until on the uppermost stairway we found several 
people clinging to whatever was firm and even more 
alarmed than ourselves. No one knew anything and as 
the doors to the deck were locked I could not get at the 
ofi&cers. 

After perhaps an hour of hard work on our part keep- 
ing in one place the screw began anew and the ship 
righted herself, much to our relief. At first the engines 
worked only every few minutes, just long enough to hold 
the vessel up, but after a while we went on again regularly. 
We afterwards learned that the trouble was the auto- 
matic oiling apparatus had been deranged in some way 
by the lurching and allowed the engine to get overheated, 
but this was finally remedied. We had got behind, but 
we were content to give up the hope of breaking the 

record on condition of not breaking the engine. 
19 



290 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

I suppose there was less danger than we thought at 
the time. The ship could not go over. The main 
danger would be that if we should lie long in the trough 
like a log the sweeping seas might break in and swamp 
us. As it was a sailor and a stewardess were severely 
hurt during the accident, and a liberal contribution was 
taken up for their benefit. We learned afterwards that 
vessels behind us suffered worse than we did, on some 
there being deaths. 

One gruff passenger during the excitement said the 
trouble was caused by our having on board some Jonahs 
from the Servia, which had had to put back to New 
York not long before on account of some accident, and 
he wanted these people set adrift in a life boat. I kept 
very quiet, as I was not certain but that I was the 
Jonah, since both of the ships I had patronized on my 
earlier voyage, the Erin and Egypt of the National line, 
had been lost not long afterwards. 

Nothing else untoward happened except that the 
pounding of the sea broke into the high-priced prome- 
nade deck state rooms, and the thundering blows on the 
dome at meal time took away what little appetite was 
left. Time dragged on most miserably. Shelley and 
Charlotte Bronte ceased to interest us and even Kings- 
ley's vivid account of the Barbarian invasions of the 
Roman empire seemed tame when read on the boisterous 
ocean. When we did get on deck rain drove us in again. 
The little newspaper which usually appears in mid ocean 
was this time a very lame affair and to that extent was 
representative. 

On Thursday evening Ave sighted land, a silvery line 
at the horizon, — America once again, welcome after a 
summer's absence, and doubly welcome after the wretched 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 29 1 

voyage. There was a concert that night, but we were 
too much interested in watching the lights ashore to care 
much for amateur music. It was after quarantine hours, 
however, and we had to wait until the next morning. 

It was before the cholera invasion and we were able 
to show a clean bill of health. As we went up the harbor, 
we underwent the much dreaded customs examination, 
but when I made my affidavit I was relieved to find that 
the books we had were not dutiable nor were our many 
unmounted photographs. In fact nothing in personal 
use was contraband. 

We arrived at the covered pier about noon, straining 
our eyes in vain from the ship to see a familiar face, and 
after landing there we had to wait up stairs a long time 
for our baggage. It had arrived at Paris early and was 
at the bottom of the hold, and the first was thus last. 
All packages as unloaded were piled up in the ware- 
house under signs marked with letters, A, B, C, etc., the 
initial of the owner as shown by the red label. Ours 
finally came after much worry on our part and running 
to and from the after hatch to hurry the porters, and 
were placed under " H." It was at this time that we 
noticed our old quarters were no longer reached by the 
tortuous route to which we had become accustomed, but 
only down the steep second class stairway from the 
promenade deck. 

While waiting we had watched the searching of other 
trunks, and now applied for an inspector who had seemed 
to be indulgent. He had passed a bundle of blood- 
thirsty shillelahs, and we thought that anything ought 
to get through the McKinley net if that did. I had 
asked on board if I were entitled to two overcoats, and 
I now found out that the lower bay inspector had marked 



292 RAMBLES IN HISTORIC LANDS. 

something about it on my affidavit, as the pier examiner 
said, " What about the overcoat ? " I said that it was 
mine and I needed it. So it passed, and at home in the 
Sunny South I have used it as it was intended, — by 
giving it to a friend. I told the inspectors that I did 
not think my intention as to donating it was any concern 
of Uncle Sam. They laughed and assented. 

Trying to set foot on our native soil was more trouble 
than leaving it, but at last it was all through, and we 
took a carriage to our hotel to rest before the long rail- 
road trip back home. New York seemed to have shrunk 
up somewhat since we had left, and the unsightly piers 
and common buildings near the water front struck us 
unpleasantly. They seemed to belong to an old tumble 
down place. Some parts of Broadway and the avenues, 
however, redeemed the city and we felt no reason there 
to fear comparisons. 



Thus ended our trip abroad. Instead of six hundred 
dollars it had cost twelve hundred, and we had been 
compelled to omit part of our contemplated rambles and 
somewhat vary others. But withal we had adhered 
pretty well to the itinerary I worked out at first, and we 
agreeably surprised the home folks in our being able to 
do so. It commended itself especially to Cousin Dan, 
who is a railroad man. 

We had seen a great deal and not unprofitably. While 
there is no place like America to live, across the water 
we can study the origin and growth of much, that, in 
perhaps a better developed state, is familiar to us here. 
The older countries have an ivied history clinging to 
them which our younger land cannot rival, and travel 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 



293 



shows the current of the world's development and makes 
us feel that even our own great country is but a part of 
a greater whole. 

May our Rambles in Historic Lands prove as pleasant 
to the reader as they were to the travellers ! 








^rWi 


3ff^ 


^^^ 


t,p^^ 


"^'^%"^( 


"^v^ 


^«J 


^^^^ 








^^M 


^^^» 



INDEX. 



Addison, 258, 281 

Aix-la-Chapelle, 15 

Alban Lake, 201 

Alban Mount, 205 

Albano, 202 

Albert of Saxony, 50, 62 

Alexander, 246 

Alps, 83 

Altdorf, 92 

Apollinaris Church, 25 ; water, 25 

Apollo Belvidere, igi 

Appian Way, ig6, 198, 206. 

Architecture, history, ig, 152, 140 

Ariadne, Dannecker's, 35 

Armor, 64, 271 

Art, ancient, 80, 246, 276; mod- 
ern, 154, 162 {see Painting, 
Sculpture) 

Assyrian remains, 245, 275 

Augustus, 125, 179 

Avignon, 217 

B 

Bach, 37, 45 
Baedeker, 23 
Bank of England, 272 
Bastille, 231 

Barbarossa, 85, 131, 138 
Baroque, 63 
Bavaria, 81 
Bazaine, 237 
Belgium, 14 



Bellagio, 118 

Berne, gg 

Bernese Oberland, 96 

Bible, 38, 275 

Bliicher, 26 

Bohemia, 73 

Bonivard, 106 

Bonn, 24 

Borromean Islands, 116 

Borromeo, S. Carlo, 116, 123 

Boulangists and Lohengrin, 253 

Boulevards, 223, 241 

Boulogne, 13 

Breitenfeld, 53 

Bridge of Sighs, 143 

British Museum, 275 

Brunelleschi, 153 

Brlinnig Pass, 95 

Brussels, 14 



C 



Caecilia Metella, igg 

Caesar, Julius, 171 

Calvin, 102 

Campagna, Roman, 206, 2og 

Campo Santo, Pisa, 211 

Canova, 120, 145, 162 

Caracalla, baths of, 177 

Carlsbad, 72 

Catacombs, Rome, 180, ig6 

Caxton, 260 

Chamouny, 108 

Channel, English, 251 

Charlemagne, 16, 128, 183 



295 



296 



INDEX. 



Chester, 282 

Chillon, 106 

Cicero, 174, 202 

Cimabue, 155 

City of Paris, steamship, 283 

Clarendon Press, 281 

Claude Lorraine, 61, 157 

Cloaca Maxima, 167 

Cologne, 18 ; cathedral, 20 

Colosseum, 176 

Columbus, 213 

Commons, House of, 260 

Communion, doctrines, 103 

Communists, 224, 229 

Como, Lake, 118 

Constance, 84 ; Lake, 84 ; Coun- 
cil, 85 

Constantine, arch of, 177 

Cook & Son, 2, 23 

Corso, the, 167, 169 

Cromwell, 261 

Cupid and Psyche, Canova's, 
120 

Customs examination, 12, 15, 
291 

Cyrus the Achsemenian, 245 



D 



Dance of death, Dresden, 66 

Dante, 150, 159, 164, 165 

Danube, 75 

David, of Michael Angelo, 162 

Da Vinci, 155 

Demetrius Poliorcetes, 246 

Diamonds, 244, 271 

Diana, I/Ouvre, 247 

Dieulafoy collection, 245 

Diligences, iii 

Divines, Assembly of, 259 

Doge's palace, 142 

Dov^rning Street, 263 

Drachenfels, 24 

Dresden, 58 ; picture gallery, 59 ; 
Green Vault, 63 ; historical 
collection, 64 ; porcelain, 65 ; 
Briihl Terrace, 66 

Durer, 74, 79, 157 



E 

Egeria, 198 

Egyptian remains, 245, 275 

Ehrenbreitstein, 25 

Eidgenossen, 93 

Eiffel Tower, 228 

Einsiedeln, 89 

Eisenach, 37 

Electors, 25, 33 

Elgin marbles, 275 

Elizabeth, Queen, 258, 270 

Emperor, Roman, 126 ; medir 

asval, 16, 33, 128 
Erfurt. 38 
Eugenie, 227, 229 



Ferney, 105 

Fettered slaves, Michael Angelo, 
248 

Fire at sea, 8 

Florence, 149 ; history, 150 ; 
cathedral, 152 ; baptistery, 153 ; 
Uffizi, 158 ; Pitti, 160 ; Medici 
chapel, 162 ; Loggia dei Lanzi, 
163 ; Santa Croce, 164 

Forum, Roman, 169 

France and Paris, 224 

Frankfort, 33 

Frari, 145 

Frederick II., sword of, 226 



Galileo, 141, 165 

Gambetta, 230, 231 

Geneva, loi, 104; Lake, 100 

Genoa, 138, 213 

Genre, 65, 156 

German Empire, 33 

Germania, national monument, 

27 

Germany, military, 15, 45 ; Su- 
preme Court, 45 

Ghibelline and Guelf, 129, 150 

Ghiberti, 154 

Gibbon, 176 



INDEX. 



297 



Giotto, 153, 165 

Glacier garden, 91 

Glyptothek, 80 

Goethe, 34, 41, 53 

Golden Bull, 34 

Gothic architecture, iq ; Italian 

Gothic, 122, 152 ; French, 233 ; 

English, 258 
Grand Canal, 136, 146 
Graves, famous (see Tombs) 
Greek art, 246, 275 
Green Vault, 63 
Grindelwald, q6 
Guelf and Ghibelline, i2q, 150 
Guillotine, 2ig, 225, 278 
Gustavus Adolphus, 54, 64 
Gutenberg, 30 

H 

Hansa, 19 

Hansom cab, 255 

Hastings, 261 

Heidelberg, 30 ; castle, 30 

Henry IV., 220, 232, 235, 247 

Henry VII., chapel, 257 

Historic relics, 64 

Holy Roman Empire, 16, 33 

Huguenots, 104 

Huss, 40, 86 



Ingres' Spring, 250 

Interlaken, 95 

Invalides, 226 

Iron crown, Lombard, 120 

Iron Virgin, 75 

Italy, history, 128, 131 

Itinerary, 3 

J 

Jaunting car, 287 
Jerome, Communion of, 190 
Jerusalem chamber, 259 
Joan of Arc, 236 
Josephine, Empress, 226 
Julius II., 185, 188 
Jungfrau, the, 96, 102, 112 



K 



Keats, 195 
Konigsstem, 70 



Lake dwellers, 89 

Laocoon, 192 

Last Judgment, 187 

Last Supper, 121 

Lateran, 180 

Laura and Petrarch, 218 

Lausanne, loi 

Leaning Tower, Pisa, 212 

Leipzig, 42 ; market, 44 ; Ge- 
wandhaus, 45 ; my room, 46 ; 
university, 49 ; battle of, 56 

Leo X., 178, 186 

League and Covenant, 260 

Leonardo da Vinci, 121, 155 

Lion of Lucerne, 90 

Lloyd's, 273 

Litany, 219 

Liverpool, 283 

Lohengrin at Paris, 242 

London, 253 ; Westminster Ab- 
bey, 255 ; St. Margaret's, 260 ; 
Parliament House, 260 ; West- 
minster Hall, 261 ; parks and 
palaces, 262 ; weather, 262 ; 
Strand, 263 ; Trafalgar Square, 
263 ; Charing Cross, 263 ; 
Horseguards, 263 ; National 
Gallery, 264 ; police, 265 ; 
courts and inns, 265 ; streets, 
266, 268, 272 ; St. Paul's, 266 ; 
London Bridge, 269 ; Tower, 
270 ; The Bank, 272 ; Cheap- 
side, 273 ; South Kensington 
Museum, 274 ; British Mu- 
seum, 275 ; Underground Rail- 
way, 276 ; Tussaud's, 277 

Locomotives, old, 274 

Lorelei, rock, 26 

Lorenzo de' Medici, 150, 163 

Louis XIV., 226, 236, 237 

Louis XV., 226, 237 



298 



INDEX. 



Louis XVI., 225, 235, 237 

Louise, Queen, 23 

Louvre, 230 ; collections, 244 ; 

gallery, 248 
Lucerne, 89 ; Lake, 91 
Lugano, Lake, 117 
Luther, at Wittenberg, 39 ; at 

Worms, 30 ; at Wartburg, 38 ; 

at Rome, 181 
Ltitzen, 54 
Lyons, 219 

M 

Magasins, Paris, 240 

Maggiore, Lake, 115, 119 

Maintenon, Mme. de, 237 

Mainz (Mayence), 29 

Mamertine prison, 172 

Maremme, 210 

Marie Antoinette, 225, 233, 237 

Marie de' Medicis, 22, 249 

Marseilles, 217 

Mary, Queen of Scots, 258 

Maxentius, Circus, 199 

Meals at Paris, 239 

Medici, the, 150, 163 

Melanchthon, 40 

Mer de Glace, 108 

Mermaid Tavern, 273 

Michael Angelo, 155, 164; Flor- 
entine sculptures, 162 ; at 
Rome, 187, 188 ; Tomb of 
Julius, 185, 248 

Milan, 121, 130 

Mission churches, 90 

Moabite Stone, 245 

Moliere, 235, 248 

Monaco, 215 

Mont Blanc, 102, 108 

Monte Carlo, 215 

Monte Rosa, 102 

Morgue, 234 

Moses, Michael Angelo, 185 

Munich, 75 ; Pinacotheks, 77, 
80 ; Glyptothek, 80 ; streets, 

75 
Murillo, 78, 161 



N 

Napoleon, 65, 112, 210, 2i5, 
234, 236, 244, 278 ; at Leip- 
zig, 56 ; tomb, 226 ; by Dela- 
roche, 43 

Napoleon III., 174, 227, 230, 
238 

Nelson, 263 

Nemi, Lake, 204 

Newgate prison, 273 

Ney, Marshal, 234, 235 

Nice, 215 

Niobe, 159 

Notre Dame, 233 

Nuremberg, 74 

O 

Ocean travel, history, 285 
CEil de Boeuf, 236 
Orange, 219 
Oxford, 280 



Painting, history, 77, 154, 198 ; 
Italy, 155 ; Netherlands, 156; 
Germany, 157 ; France, 157, 
249 ; England, 264 

Palatinate, 31 

Pantheon, 179 

Paris, history, 222, 224 ; Place 
de la Concorde, 225, 228 ; 
Champs Elysees, 225 ; Inval- 
ides, 226 ; Eiffel Tower, 228 ; 
Column Vendome, 229 ; Tuil- 
eries, 229 ; Louvre, 230, 244 ; 
Collections, 244 ; Hotel ^de 
Ville, 231 ; Bastille, 231 ; lie 
de la Cite, 232 ; Sainte Cha- 
pelle, 233 ; Notre Dame, 233 ; 
Morgue, 234 ; Pantheon, 234 ; 
Pere-la-Chaise, 235 ; paving, 

239 ; sewers, 240 ; shopping, 

240 ; magasins, 240 ; streets, 
240, 241 ; opera, 242 ; Lohen- 
grin, 242; Madeleine, 228, 241; 
Luxembourg, 234, 249 



INDEX. 



299 



Parliament House, 260 

Pasquin, 182 

Passionist monastery, 205 

Peel, Sir Robert, 262, 265 

Pere-la-Chaise, 235 

Persia, history and remains, 245 

Petrarch and Laura, 218 

Phidias, 276 

Pieta, Michael Angelo, 185 

Pilate, Pontius, 95, 219 

Pilatus, Mt., 95 

Pinacotheks, Munich, 77, 80 

Pisa, 210 

Pitti Gallery, 160 

Place de la Concorde, 228 

Poets' Corner, 256 

Police, Paris, 241 ; London, 265 

Pompadour, Mme. de, 226 

Pompey, 206 

Popes, and emperors, 17, 128 ; 

beards of, 201 
Porcelain, history, 65 
Portier, the, 148 
Printing, history, 30, 47, 260 



Queenstown, 287 



R 



Rachel, 2, 251, 277, 288 
Railroad travelling, 36, 100, 209, 

220, 276 
Raphael, 156, 179 ; Florence 

madonnas, 160 ; Stanze and 

Loggie in Vatican, 188, 190 ; 

tapestries, 193, 274 
Reformation, 181, 183 
Regent diamond, 244 
Rembrandt, 157 
Rhine, the, 24 ; upper, 86 ; falls, 

87 
Rhone glacier, 98 
Rial to, 136 
Rietschel, 66 

Rigi, 93 
Ringbahn, 76 
Riviera, the, 214 



Robespierre, 225, 231, 233 

Roland and Hildegunde, 24 

Roman Empire, 16, 124 

Rome, 123, 166 ; ancient, 167 ; 
bridges, 168 ; Forum, 169 ; Via 
Sacra, 170 ; Comitium, 171 ; 
Mamertine prison, 1 72 ; Pala- 
tine Hill, 174; Capitoline, 174; 
Colosseum, 176; Baths of Car- 
acalla, 177 ; Pantheon, 179 ; 
Lateran, 180 ; Scala Santa, 
181 ; Pasquin, 18 r ; St. Peter's, 
183 ; Vatican, 186; Catacombs, 
196 ; Via Appia, 196, ig8 ; St. 
Paul's, 200 ; Roman history, 
123 ; lost near Rome, 203 

Rosetta Stone, 275 

Rothschild, 35 

Rotterdam, steamship, 4 

Rousseau, 102, 104, 235 

Rubens, 78, 156, 161 

Riitli, 92 



St. Bartholomew, 230 

St. Bernard, Pass, 109 ; dogs, 114 

St. Cloud, 237 

St. Denis, 235 

St. Gall, 84 

St. Gotthard Railway, 117 

St. James' Palace, 262 

St. Mark's, 135, 140 

St. Paul's, Rome, 200 ; London, 
266 

St. Peter's, 183 

Sachs, Hans, 74 

Salon, 244 

Salvator Rosa, 161 

Santa Croce, 164 

Saxon Switzerland, 70 

Saxony, 67 

Scala Santa, 181 

Schiller, 24, 41, 53, 86 

Schaffhausen, 86 

School of Athens, 189 

Sculptures, Munich, 80 ; Flor- 
ence, 158, 162 ; Rome, 191 ; 
Paris, 245, 248 ; London, 275 



300 



INDEX. 



Sea, life at, 5, 287 

Sedan, 57, 228, 231 

Seine, the, 232, 238 

Self portraits, Florence, 160 

Sevres, 238 

Shakspere, 270, 273, 281, 282 

Shelley, 195, 212 

Simplon Pass, 112 

Si on, 109 

Sisline Chapel, 187 

Sistine Madonna, 59 

Smith, Hotel, 213 

Sprudel, 73 

Spurgeon, C. H., 269 

Staubbach, 96 

Stratford-on-Avon, 281 

Student life, German, 32, 49, 53 

Switzerland, 83 ; history, 93 



Tabard Inn, 270 

Talleyrand, 228 

Tasso, 186 

Tell, 92 

Temple Bar, 262, 269 

Temi, 207 

Theban Legion, 22, 107 

Thorwaldsen, 43, go, 120 

Tiber, 168 

Tilly, 53, 64 

Times, London, 266 

Titian, 145, 156, 161 

Titus, arch of, 171 

Toes, 193 

Tombs and graves, famous, 257 : 
Abelard and Heloise, 235 ; 
Addison, 258 ; Anne, 258 ; 
Anne Boleyn, 270 ; Alfieri, 
165 ; Arago, 235 ; Augustus, 
179; Balzac, 235 ; Beauharnais, 
81 ; Blake, 260 ; Bourbons, 235, 
236 ; Browning, 256 ; Buske- 
tus, 211; Ca;cilia Metella, 199; 
Calvin, 103 ; Canning, 256 ; 
Canova, 145 ; Caxton, 260 ; 
Charles I., 280; Charles IL, 
258 ; Charlemagne, 16 ; Chau- 
cer, 256; Chatham, 256; Clyde, 



256 ; Cosmo de' Medici, 163 ; 
Cousin, 235 ; Cranmer, 280 ; 
Cromwell, 261 ; Cruikshank, 
267 ; Darwin, 256 ; Dickens, 
256; DunsScotus, 18 ; Diirer, 
74 ; Edward L, 257 ; Edward 
IIL, 257; Elizabeth, 258; 
Erasmus, 87 ; Essex, 270 ; Fox, 
256 ; Garrick, 256 ; Grattan, 
256; Galileo, 165; George IIL, 
280 ; Goethe, 41 ; Grey, Lady 
Jane, 270 ; Handel, 256 ; 
Henry VII., 257 ; Henry 
VIII. , 280; Herschel, 256; 
Hortense, 226 ; Hugo, 235 ; 
Huss, 86 ; James 1., 258 ; 
Samuel Johnson, 256 ; Sir Wm. 
Jones, 267 ; Ben Jonson, 256 ; 
Josephine, 226 ; Julius II., 

185 ; Keats, 195 ; Lafontaine, 
235 ; LaGrange, 235 ; Land- 
seer, 267 ; Leo I., 185 ; LeoX., 

186 ; Livingstone, 256 ; Louis 
XVI., 235 ; Louis XVIIL, 
235 ; Luther, 40; Lytton, 257 ; 
Macaulay, 256; Marceau, 235 ; 
Marie Antoinette, 235 ; Mary 
Queen of Scots, 258 ; Melanch- 
thon, 40 ; Michael Angelo, 
164 ; Michelet, 235 ; Mill, 218 ; 
Milman, 267 ; Moliere, 235 ; 
Musset, 235 ; Napoleon, 226 ; 
Nelson, 267 ; Newton, 256 ; 
Ney, 235 ; Niebuhr, 24 ; Parr, 
256 ; Paul, 201 ; Perrier, 235 ; 
Peter, 185; Pilate, 219; Pitt, 
256 ; Pompey, 206 ; Racine, 
235 ; Raleigh, 260 ; Raphael, 
179 ; Reynolds, 267; Rietschel, 
66; Rossini, 235, 165; Rous- 
seau, 235 ; Sachs, 74 ; Schiller, 
41 ; Schumann, 24 ; Shakspere, 
282 ; Shelley, 195 ; Sheridan, 
256 ; Spenser, 256 ; Stanley, 
258 ; Stephenson, 256 ; Tasso, 
186 ; Tennyson, 256 ; Theban 
Legion, 22 ; Fhiers, 235 ; Ti- 
tian, 145 ; Trajan, 173 ; Tur- 
ner, 267 ; Ursula, 22 ; Victor 



INDEX. 



301 



Emanuel, 179 ; Voltaire, 234 ; 

Wellington, 267 ; West, 267 ; 

Williamof Orange, 258; Wren, 

267 
Torso, Hercules, 192 
Torture, instruments, 75 
Toulon, 216 
Tower of London, 270 
Trajan's Forum, 173 
Transfiguration, igo 
Tribune, Florence, 158 
Tuileries. 221, 22g 
Turner, J. M. W., 264, 267 
Tusculanum, 202 
Tussaud's, 277 

JJ 

Uffizi Gallery, 158 
Underground railway, London, 
276 

V 

Vatican, 186 

Vendome Column, 229 

Venice, 133, 141 ; history, 137; St. 

Mark's 135, 140; Rialto, 136; 

Grand Canal, 134, 146; Doge's 

palace, 141 ; prisons, 143 ; 

arsenal, 144 ; Frari, 144 ; 

Ghetto, 146 
Venus, de' Medici, 158 ; Capito- 

line, 175 ; of Milo, 247 ; Ca- 

nova's, 162 
Versailles, 236 



Via Appia, ig6, 198, 206 

Via Sacra, 170 

Victor Emanuel Arcade, 122 

Vienne, 219 

Villa Carlotta, 119 

Vinci, Da, 155 

Voltaire, 17, 104, 105, 234 

W 

Wallenstein, 54, 73 

Wartburg, 38 

Waterloo, 15 

Weimar, 40 

Westminster, Abbey, 255 ; Hall, 

261 
Whitehall, 263 
Wieland, 41 
Wiesbaden, 27 
Wilhelm L, 23, 237 
Windscheid, 51 
Windsor, 279 
Wittenberg, 39 
Worms, 30 
Wundt, Prof., 50 

Y 

Y. M. C. A., origin, 368 

Z 

Zermatt, no 
Zurich, 87 
Zwingli, 88 



